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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is an old fic for a collab where my prompt was fucking in an alley. [ SYNOPSIS ] You’re the world’s cutest cleat chaser and your only wish is to grab the attention of your favorite ball player, Zeke Yeager. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.6k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, dubcon (power imbalance), exhibitionism, public sex, rough sex, finger sucking, degradation (whore, tart), vaginal fingering, impact play, oral sex, spit, creampie, Zeke's a bit of an asshole but it's fine alright like it's tolerable.

Night games were never particularly kind to you. A wind chill swept through the city and the fog rolled over the hills. You shivered outside the ballpark in your gameday outfit which consisted of dolphin shorts, thigh high socks, and your favorite team's jersey with Yeager emblazoned on the back.

A drunk man pondered, "Could our offense be any fuckin' worse, dude?"

It was another loss for your team. You listened to drunken fans lamenting another losing season. Another year dead last in the standings. Another year all the new players from the farm would disperse to better teams, greener pastures. Lucky for you your favorite was loyal; Zeke was committed. He like many players worked his way up through the farm system, toiling away in the minor leagues. But unlike others he was content to continue playing for a lackluster team.

When asked why he stuck around he answered, "Who knows? I'll probably leave once the lease to my place is up."

It later came out he in fact owned his penthouse apartment.

"At least our bullpen has their shit together," another drunk said, smacking the other on the back of the head. His hoppy breath visible in the cold air. You slowly stepped away from him and his stench.

"What's the point of a good bullpen if they can't get run support, dumb ass?"

You sighed heavily and kept your eye on the exit gate. It was a slow parade of luxury cars: a Lexus here, a Bentley there. But you failed to see the black Rolls-Royce Wraith that Zeke drove.

Going home was always an option; curling up like a kitten in your warm bed definitely had its appeal. But so did Zeke. I mean, you spent a greater portion of the game gazing at him longingly. And he even gave you a little wave after making brief eye contact with you.

Shelling out money for a seat by the dugout had paid off.

You were blessed with a perfect view. When Zeke took to the mound in the 9th inning to close out the game you salivated at the sight of his ass in his tight baseball pants. It was criminal how they hugged every muscle in his long legs. His entire uniform was perfectly fitted; none of that baggy nonsense for him. It made him standout in a team of leathered veteran players, desperately holding onto their careers, seemingly unaware they were washed up. They looked positively slovenly next to Zeke. You wondered if he wore the same intense, determined expression while fucking. The mere thought made your pussy throb.

A gust of wind brought you back to reality. You looked around and saw people starting to disperse. The two drunks wandered across the street, still shouting about the lack of run support. Disappointment washed over you. You desperately wanted to see Zeke, even if just a glance.

"Shit," you muttered. "Oh well."

You stood around, looking dejected as ever. You felt like an idiot shivering in the cold. You pulled out your phone and checked the bus schedule.

"Of course."

You had missed it. All because you wanted to make eyes at a star player.

"Oh god, were you really waiting around for me?"

You quickly spun around and saw Zeke. He was still in his baseball pants but now they were paired with a fitted black v-neck. He smirked at your doe-eyed expression, clearly relishing in your admiration.

"Uh—No, I."

Words escaped you. You couldn't tell if you were shivering because of the cold or the beautiful man that stood in front you. He was even better up close. His beauty was significantly more pronounced. You were transfixed by steely gaze, utterly enamored with his grey eyes.

Zeke looked you up and down.

"I like your jersey."

All you did was nod. He snorted at your inability to speak.

"Are capable of talking? Or should we pantomime?"

"I... I don't know what that means."

He rolled his eyes.

"I honestly shouldn't expect a baseball fan to know any words more than two syllables," he playfully asserted.

Speech eluded you. You certainly knew a significant amount of words with varying numbers of syllables, but that was neither here nor there. He stepped closer to you. His eyes lingering on your bare thighs.

"You must be freezing dressed like a little tart."

"A tart?"

"Let me redo that one." He cleared his throat. "You must be freezing dressed like a dirty whore. Could those shorts be any shorter?"

"I—I guess."

He stared you down. It never occurred to you he didn't expect or even want an answer.

"You're not very bright, are you?"

"I'm nervous. Not stupid," you said quietly.

He frowned and pulled you into a hug. His hands trailed down to the small of your back and then slowly put them underneath your jersey. The feeling of his rough hands on your bare skin was almost too pleasurable comprehend. It was a miracle you didn't faint or melt into a puddle.

"Aw, no need to be nervous. I promise I'm a nice guy 50% of the time."

"Not all the time?" You asked nervously.

"No, no, no. That would be too boring. Life's about excitement."

He lifted your chin.

"Don't you agree?" He asked.

"I mean, within reason."

He traced his thumb along your lips.

"What do you consider within reason, pet?"

Before you had a chance to answer he weaseled his thumb into your mouth. You eagerly sucked on it; your tongue gliding up and down. It was second nature. Almost like his fingers simply existed so they could be in your mouth.

"So this is within reason, huh? Is this?"

Zeke pulled his thumb out of your mouth and attempted to kiss you. There was a brief moment of panic when his lips touched yours. You hesitated.

"Open your mouth," he demanded. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

You parted your lips and accepted his tongue in your mouth. Who were you to deny your favorite player? You'd dreamt of this moment for so long. So many nights spent touching yourself, pretending his callused hands were the ones delving inside you. So many nights quietly moaning his name as you writhed on your bed in the midst of an orgasm.

His breath tasted like peppermint and tobacco, a combination that would normally make you gag. But this was uncharted territory; there was no reason to let something so trivial ruin the moment. If anything it was intoxicating. You moaned through the kiss and wrapped your arms around him. He held you closer to him, his grip tighter. You fidgeted a bit, attempting to ignore how wet you were getting, but lust overcame you. You reached down and felt for his hard cock.

"Whoa there. Let's go somewhere a bit more secluded."

He took his thumb and wiped away the drool near your mouth.

"And where would that be?"

"That alley over there."

Zeke gestured towards an alleyway not too far from the exit gate.

"Is—is that gonna be any better?"

You looked around. Sure, the street was deserted at this point but it was still woefully public. You failed to see how an alleyway would be a better option.

"Come on. Don't worry about it."

Zeke gently took your hand and led you to the alley. It was dark and dingy. The only light came from rogue cars speeding down the street. In any other circumstance this would have been horrifying. But it was him. The man you longed for. Nothing seemed horrifying with him around. He lit up a cigarette and offered you one.

"I don't smoke," you said, coughing.

He shrugged and took a drag. "Your loss. You might as well just get on your hands and knees then."

You looked out towards the street again, weighing your options.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"No," you answered, lowering yourself to the ground. "I have ears."

The pavement was cold and unforgiving. Your socks did little to protect your tender skin from the concrete. However there was something invigorating about your discomfort.

"Pull your shorts down."

You did as you were told, slowly pulling down your shorts revealing your bare ass to Zeke.

"Nice," he said, getting on his knees behind you.

He gave you a firm spank. His hand was freezing. You shivered as he took his fingers and prodded your folds. He slowly slid his middle and index fingers inside you.

"This might sound weird but you have the cutest asshole," he said candidly as he continued to finger fuck you.

"Oh, th—thanks," you choked out.

"What would you do if I started fucking it, huh?"

"Probably cry, honestly."

"Is that supposed to discourage me?"

You winced as Zeke slipped yet another finger inside you.

"I w—would hope s—so."

"Hmm. I would hope my biggest fan would know I'm absolute filth," he chided.

"I'm usually too busy calculating, oh fuck... Calculating your ERA to think about that."

A blatant lie. It was true you did spend quite a bit of time figuring out earned run averages. But you constantly thought about the things you'd let Zeke do to you. Your go-to fantasy being one where he fucks you in the locker room while the rest of the team cheers him on as he fills you with his cum over and over again.

He chuckled. "You know your shit then, huh?"

"I'm a baseball fan fir—first and a whore second."

Zeke grabbed a chunk of your hair and pulled on it so you were forced to look at him. His glasses were slightly fogged up which made you laugh.

"You're pretty audacious. I like that. It's a pleasant surprise."

You flashed him a smile, proud that you impressed him. Your night couldn't have gotten any better.

Zeke leaned over you and whispered in your ear, "Are you ready for me, pet?"

The sound of him pulling down his pants zipper had you frothing at the mouth. You arched your back, presenting your warm, slick cunt to him. Zeke took his thick cock and guided it inside you. It was larger than you were expecting, you couldn't help but yelp as he started to thrust.

"Aw, is it too big for you? Do I need to be gentler?"

You nodded.

"Too bad."

He slammed his full length into you; your clit throbbed as he thrusted.

"Ah, please. I—it's too much."

"You're a big girl, aren't you? You did come here all by yourself."

Zeke was right. You had shown up to the game alone; none of your friends could give a shit about baseball, or sports in general. But you weren't sure how this related to you taking his cock. He gave you a firm smack on the ass.

"I asked you a question."

"I am," you whined.

"That's what I thought. You can take it."

Your knees were chafing against the concrete; you felt your socks tear from the friction. Zeke grabbed onto your hips and drove his cock deeper and deeper inside you. He dug his thumbs into your hips.

"You would've fucked whoever came up to you, huh?"

"No," you answered in between moans.

"Really?"

His tone indicated he didn't believe you. Frustration plagued you. You desperately wanted to explain yourself, to tell him, "No, you fucking idiot, I only wanna get railed by you." But that was wishful thinking, a pipe dream.

"I find it that hard to believe," he continued.

"I—I, shit." Words continued to fail you. You felt like you would never be able to communicate with another human again after he was through with you.

"Come on; you can do it. Use your big girl words, pet."

His hand came down hard on your ass as if he was trying to knock some sense into you.

"You—you're the only one," you choked out, reeling from the ache his callused hand left behind.

"Really?"

This time he seemed genuinely surprised. Your head was spinning, but you trudged on.

"Everyone else is kinda leathery and old. That's not my type."

He yanked on your hair, forcing you to crane your head back. You got a good look at his face; he was fucking smiling.

"Watch it, pet. Those are my teammates."

You let out a little laugh and he loosened his grip on your hair. He grabbed you gently under your chin and planted a small kiss on your lips. Your cunt had finally adjusted to his thick cock and you grinded up against him, sending it deeper inside you. Zeke moaned as his cock hit your cervix.

"Shit, you feel so good."

Your cunt tightened around his cock, almost holding it hostage inside you.

"Oh fuck, yes. Just like that," he moaned as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against your taint.

You clit ached as he praised you. His thrusts grew wild and his pace quickened. He gripped your hips harder, driving his cock deeper inside you. Your body was slack, totally limp. Drool pooled in your mouth and gradually dripped from the corners of your mouth. Zeke let out a groan and filled you with his cum. You welcomed its warmth inside you.

"Shit," you muttered.

Zeke pulled out and you collapsed on the pavement.

"I'm not done with you."

He flipped you over so that your back was against the cool ground. He slid his fingers inside you, and pulled them out slick with his cum.

"Open your mouth."

You did as you were told and licked the cum off of his fingers.

"Atta girl."

Zeke spread your legs and started to suck his cum out of your cunt. You ran your fingers through his soft, flaxen hair. He looked up at you, his grey eyes flooded with desire. It would have been pretty sexy had his glasses not fogged up again.

You giggled. "You're so cute."

"Hmm?" He looked up at you and wiped his mouth.

"Your glasses. I don't know, they're adorable."

He took his thumb and started to rub circles around your clit. You let out a heavenly sigh.

"Adorable, huh? Haven't heard that in a while."

"It—oh fuck. It's true."

Zeke went back to eating your cunt. His lapped at your clit. His beard was rough against your thighs.

"P—ple—please don't stop," you whined.

Zeke started to suck on your clit. Your body became deadweight and your skin grew hot. You panted as he continued to suck and you bucked your hips against his mouth. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, too heavy a burden to carry. Was this bliss? Had you ascended to heaven?

"I—I'm gonna."

"Say my name, pet."

You moaned his name over and over again as he traced his tongue along your folds. You held his head in place and rutted against his face, repeating his name like it was your mantra.

"Oh Zeke," you said breathily. "That—that was—"

"Incredible, I know," he answered, pulling your shorts back up.

He stood up and helped you to your feet.

"So, you need a ride home?"

"No, I'll probably just get a Lyft or something."

He took you by the hand and led you back towards the street. It was still empty, not a soul around.

"Fuck that. Let me drive you. It's the least I can do."

"I live about an hour away though."

Zeke shrugged and adjusted his glasses. "Fine with me. More time for you to help me figure out my ERA. I suck at math; I need that beautiful brain of yours."

He winked at you and smacked your ass. Calculating an earned run average wasn’t particularly hard so you assumed he was joking.

"Come on. You're really gonna turn down getting fucked again in the back of a Rolls?"

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyojin smut #x reader #reader insert #.fics #.aot #.zeke

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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

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Speak Easy Part 14

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 6689

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

********************************************************************

It had been three weeks since Dabi left and in those three weeks you hadn’t heard a peep from him. True to his word he never called you. Shoto seemed to be getting vague updates from Katsuki but nothing that could settle your nerves.

You threw yourself into working out to distract yourself. You refused to ever be weak again. Every day you got up early and hit the home gym that you built with Dabi’s money in his absence. You were surprised how good it felt to spend his money without his permission. You knew he had enough to go around, but it was almost like payback for him leaving you here without him.

The gym was simple. A treadmill, some free weights, and a punching bag.

The guys took turns coming to check on you. Shoto more than the others, which was fine with you considering he was the only one with the balls to spar with you. You didn’t know if they were scared of you, Dabi, or Katsuki. But whoever it was, they were keeping their hands to themselves. And that’s how you ended up here now pinned underneath Shoto’s knee.

“I told you, stop thinking so hard. Your moves are predictable, I can read your every move before you do it. You need to relax and trust your instincts.”

You shoved him off of you and sat up, putting your elbows on your knees.

“I knew I’d be rusty… but I didn’t think it’d take this long to get back into shape.”

Shoto handed you a water bottle and sat next to you. “Well you’ve always been good, but you’ve also relied on your quirk pretty heavily up until now. You’ll get there, just takes time.”

You sat for a while in silence. That’s another thing you appreciated about Shoto. His ability to find comfort in shared silence. He never forces a conversation or pushes you to talk about things you don’t want to.

“So how long can you stay this time?”

His mismatched eyes met yours with a guilty look. “Honestly I’ve already been here a little too long. My shift starts soon, and I have a long drive.” He sighed as he screwed the cap back onto his water bottle. “Last I heard from Bakugo there wasn’t really much change but they’re both still alive and well. I’m supposed to be hearing from him again sometime in the next few days. So, I should have a better update the next time I see you.”

You followed him to the front door, feeling your heart sink as you went. You hated this part. The part when they left. There wasn’t exactly a schedule, they just came and went when they could. It was incredibly lonely when it was just you and you were already getting anxious thinking about it. “I wish he’d just come home already. I hate being here alone…”

Shoto sighed with his hand on the door. “I can only imagine… I’ll see what I can do about getting you some better company. Maybe we can rework our shifts or something… I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.” He reached a hand out and gently pressed it to your shoulder, “Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone, and for the love of god follow my idiot bothers laws.” His eyes twinkled, “Oh! That reminds me…ware your fucking collar… his words not mine.”

Your eyes bulged. Those where the first words you’d gotten from him since he left. Your fingers darted to your bare neck, “I-It’s charging… the battery doesn’t last forever.”

Shoto chuckled, “Well according to him you haven’t worn it for two days. He interrupted my last call with Bakugo just to tell me.”

“I guess I should have known he’d be watching the stats like the creep his is.” You rolled your eyes and tried to suppress the blush that was threatening to break out across your cheeks. Of course he was watching. Watching the tracker to make sure you were where you were supposed to be. Watching your vitals to makes sure you were staying healthy. Watching your call log to make sure you weren’t doing anything you weren’t supposed to be doing.

For the first time since he left you felt an odd giddy feeling. It reminded you of the feeling you’d get when you were in school and a boy you had a crush on liked one of your pictures on social media. It wasn’t direct interaction, but it was a reminder that he cared.

Shoto gave you a quick hug before leaving, reminding you to lock the door as he went.

As soon as you heard the security system signal that is was on, the empty feeling returned. You were alone again. By yourself. With only your thoughts to keep you company… how awful.

You dragged yourself over to the where your collar was charging and put it back on. Your fingers brushed over the familiar material. A warm feeling started to push through the empty feeling in your stomach as you thought about how Dabi was probably checking on you every chance he got. The least you could do was reassure him that you were okay.

Despite being able to talk again you had decided to keep up with the sign language. It was a good distraction and also something really helpful to know. You learned from Shoto that Izuku had learned sign just in case Katsuki went deaf, and he ended up teaching Shoto. So it seemed it could definitely come in handy down the road.

You also spent a great deal of time watching cooking shows and trying to learn some things.

You were never that great with cooking before, hell you didn’t even really know how to efficiently shop for groceries. You were rarely home, and when you were you were ordering in or letting Katsuki cook for you. But now that you were home alone for days at a time, you decided it was time you learn.

Tonight, you watched a video on how to sign different colors and numbers as you attempted to make rice balls. The chef made it look so easy in the video you watched earlier. But so far you were finding it to be incredibly difficult.

You were trying to take this time alone to improve yourself. Now that he wasn’t here it was easier to see how much you had relied on Dabi. You wanted him to come back to a new and improved you.

You sat down to dinner with your pathetic looking rice balls and fought to push down the empty feeling in your stomach once again. The loneliness killed your appetite, you could feel yourself sinking into a funk. Every day it got harder to convince yourself that eating was important, that getting out of bad even mattered, that working out was worth it.

But then you thought about what Dabi would say if he found out you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d probably bend you over his knee and spank you for even thinking about skipping a meal.

So even though your depressed brain tried really hard to convince you that you weren’t hungry, you shoved bite after bite into your mouth. He’d be livid if you so much as lost a pound while he was gone.

You thought about the way he loved to worship your body. How he groaned when his hands gripped your hips. How his hands traveled up your thick thighs and around to your ass before giving it a squeeze and… great… now you’re working yourself up.

There had been several times your needs had riled you up to the point where you had tried to take care of them yourself. But no matter what you did or how hard you tried, you hadn’t been able to get yourself off. Your hands were no comparison to Dabi’s.

You let out a frustrated growl as you dropped your plate into the sink.

Once again you had this burn in your core that was spreading and you were already frustrated knowing there was nothing you could do about it. You didn’t even have any toys to help and there was no way you could ask one of the guys to bring you one the next time they came. You flushed at the image of Shoto or Izuku handing you a vibrator.

With the ache between your legs only seeming to grow worse, you skipped to your bedroom, well Dabi’s bedroom, but you guess it was yours now too.

You were sweaty from your workout and was in desperate need of a shower which gave you the perfect idea.

You quickly stripped your clothing and stepped into the hot spray of the shower you quickly washed your hair and body before turning the hot water down a little to a nice room temperature.

With nervous hands you pulled the shower head down from it’s spot and played with the settings. You switched between them until you found one that seemed… promising?

The shower head slowly roamed from your neck to your chest, to your nipple. You sucked in a breath as you closed your eyes and tried to pretend that it was something or rather someone else. Your breathing picked up as the spray slowly moved further down until it reached the spot that was giving you all the trouble.

Suddenly a jolt of pleasure ran through you and you had to put a hand on the wall to keep yourself from falling over. A low moan fell from your lips and you rolled your hips against the pressure. “Oh god. Oh shit. YES!” It had been weeks since you last orgasmed and you could feel everything that had been building coming to a climax… literally.

Your breathing became erratic as you imagined rough callused fingers rubbing your clit while wet, sloppy lips mouthed at you neck. Your head swam with desire as you felt the familiar clenching in your core.

Then out of nowhere you felt your pleasure snap as your first orgasm in weeks washed over you in heavy waves. “FuUuck!” Your legs wobbled and almost buckled underneath you. Your orgasm seemed to go on way longer than any one you’ve had in recent memory. It just kept going and going till the point that you thought you couldn’t breathe.

Your legs crumpled underneath you and you fell as your orgasm finally finished.

After a few minutes you used your foot to turn the water off as your breathing finally started to even out.

Your heart practically leapt out of your throat as your collar started beeping with an incoming call. You answered it immediately in the hopes that it was Dabi.

“H-Hello?”

“Y/N!? Are you okay?”

That voice didn’t belong to Dabi but it was probably the second best option.

“Kats? Y-yeah I’m fine. W-why do you ask?” You sucked in a huge breath to help yourself come back down from your high.

“Dabi said he got an alert that your vitals were at dangerous levels. Apparently, your heartbeat was erratic… You workin out or somethin?”

You blushed and cleared your throat, “Or something.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before you heard a muffled curse. “Fuck, okay so you’re more than good.” You could almost hear the blush in his voice. “Sorry to interrupt… have a good night…”

Before he could hang up you panicked and shouted, “WAIT!”

“… Yeah?”

“How are you guys?” You hated how weak you sounded. How desperate you sounded for any update on their progress.

“We’re alive and making good progress. That’s all I can really say right now.”

“Good okay… hey uh Kats… please be safe. Both of you.”

“We’ll try… I gotta go now. Good night y/n.”

Before you could respond you heard the beeping, indicating that he had hung up.

Groaning you picked yourself up and made your way to the big comfy bed that just felt too big now that it was just you. You pulled one of Dabi’s shirts on that dwarfed you and queued up a movie on the TV.

Sleep didn’t take long to take you and your last thoughts were of how monotonous your life was now. You go to bed, wake up, work out, work on Sign Language, watch cooking shows, cook dinner, rinse repeat.

You just needed something to mix it up.

And your wish would be granted not even two days later when Kirishima showed up at your door with pointy toothed grin. “Hey Y/N! How’s it going? Gone crazy yet?”

“I think I went crazy years ago bud.” You giggled as you stepped to the side to let him in. Instead he just stood there looking at you funny. “So are you coming in or did you just drop by to stare at me and leave?”

“Oh! Right? Hold on… close your eyes! I have a surprise.”

You narrowed your eyes but complied with a sigh. “Kiri I swear if this surprise is a wet willy, I will hypnotize you and make you pee yourself.”

He was quiet as he tiptoed away quickly. Only moments later you heard the pitter patter of him trying and failing to sneak up on you. You knew he was next to you now, but you kept your eyes closed anyways.

“Kiri what are you—”

You shrieked as a wet tongue licked you from your chin to your ear. “WHAT THE FUCK KIRI!”

Your eyes bolted open to see a crying Kiri holding a puppy. He was laughing so hard you were scared he was going to drop the dog.

You reached out and yanked the puppy from him and could immediately feel yourself sinking into its soft fur. “Oh my goodness! Who is this sweat baby?”

You nuzzled into and started rubbing its soft ears.

“He is your new guard dog. Well he’s more of a guard puppy, but you get the point.”

He started to walk back towards his car, “Wait? Are you leaving already?”

He gave you a regretful look, “Yeah sorry princess, I only had time to come drop off your new friend. I have to go pick up my kid from school, but I think I’m coming back soon. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” With a wink he hopped into his car and sped away.

You were only sad for a brief moment before you scurried back inside with your new friend.

You plopped yourself down on the couch with the puppy sitting in your lap. He was a little ball of fur with big ole paws and floppy ears. From what you could tell he might be an Australian Shepheard. “What are we going to call you huh?”

The little furball cocked his head at you and started chewing on your fingers.

“Hmmm what about Buddy? No that’s cliché. Ajax? He was the strongest warrior in all of Greece.” You watched as the “warrior” in question sniffed his own butt. “Hm maybe not. What abouuuuut… Bravo?”

He looked at you and gave the cutest little “woof”

You smiled and scratched behind his ears. “Okay then Bravo it is. Welcome to your new home sweet boy.”

Bravo was exactly what you needed in order to break out of your slump. You could feel your serotonin rise every day as you bonded with him. He was keeping you company and also keeping you very busy. Between poddy training and teaching him basic commands he was a handful. He loved to follow you everywhere you went and nip at your ankles until you paid attention to him.

It was amazing how quickly Bravo was becoming the most important thing in your life. Since Dabi left you had frequent nightmares that often led to anxiety attacks once you woke up. But now you had a fuzzy four-legged friend who not only woke you up when you cried in your sleep but also laid on top of you until you calmed down. You almost laughed thinking about how Dabi would react when he came home. You knew he’d find a way to be jealous of a dog.

Bravo settled into a routine with you and he never let you out of his sight. He really had the potential to be an excellent guard dog. He was extremely smart, picking up new tricks and commands easily. He was perceptive. And most importantly he didn’t hesitate to attack any of the guys, in his cute puppy way, when they came to visit. He was one hundred percent a Mamma’s boy.

Today had been a weird one. It was officially a month since the boys left. You stayed in bed a little longer than usual but you had responsibilities now and Bravo wasn’t going to let you be sad all day. He decided growling and pulling on your blanket was the best way to get you attention.

“Bravo, no. I know you want to play, just let me be sad a little longer, and then we’ll go outside.” You knew he didn’t understand you, but it felt so nice to just talk to him even if he can’t respond.

Bravo continued to jump and bark at you obviously trying to get you play with him. You rolled your eyes as you threw the blanket off of you. “Alright, alright, I get it. Let’s go outside.”

You rolled out of bed and pulled your hair into a bun. It was cold out now, and it even looked like it might snow soon. You used to love the snow, but the older you got the more miserable it sounded. You pulled a pair of sweatpants and a baggie hoodie on and started to drag your feet towards the back door. “You couldn’t let me wallow for even a couple hours huh?”

You slid the sliding glass door open and Bravo took off into the backyard.

The sky was a dark and depressing shade of grey. You could see your breath escaping you and it made you shiver. “Okay Bruno let’s make this quick! It’s fucking cold…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as Bravo sprinted from one side of the yard to another before stopping to sniff a spot on the fence to pee. “Good boy Bravo… let’s go in now. Eat some breakfast, how does that sound?”

Snow started to fall and before long you could feel it soaking through your hoodie. “BRAVO! You little shit, come on it’s cold!”

He ran towards you like he was going to listen before turning at the last second and running off to the side. You groaned. You loved the dog, but it was times like this that reminded you how frustrating taking care of another living thing could be.

You took a couple steps towards him and he just stood there wagging his goofy little tale. You leapt towards him just for him to run off again in the other direction. “I swear Bravo, if you love me at all you will come to me right now!”

You tip toed towards him slowly, “Come on dude. It’s too cold.” You were so close now, you just needed to scoop him up. You jumped at him but again he leapt out of the way except this time… your foot slipped on some fresh snow on the concrete surrounding the pool… and in you fell.

The ice-cold water cut through you straight to your bones like a million needles. You gasped which was a huge mistake as you sucked in water into your lungs. Now the panic was setting in. The last time you were in this pool you drowned. And this time there was no Dabi to resuscitate you. There was no one here. You could die here, and no one would even know for days.

No, no, no, this was not the time to have a panic attack. You had to think. You had to get out of this pool. But you couldn’t, the only thing you could think was how cold you were, how painful the water in your lungs was, how the cold water felt like you were being stabbed. You vision was blacking out, your limbs were becoming numb, you finally started to try and swim, but your muscles were so sluggish. It was agony trying to get your arms and legs to cooperate. Were you going into shock?

You felt yourself sinking and there was nothing you could do. Your baggie hoodie and sweatpants were only getting heavier on your limbs. It was like you had forgotten how to swim. Or like one of those dreams where it doesn’t matter how hard or how long you keep swimming you never make it to the surface. You expected your life to flash before your eyes, but it didn’t. Instead all you had was fear. Fear and regret. And those almost weighed you down more than your soaked clothes.

You have unfinished business. You had a corrupt hero system to dismantle. You had a life to reclaim. You had… people who loved you, and you couldn’t leave them behind just yet.

You pushed as hard as you could now. You refused to give up. Just before you blacked out your head broke the surface. You struggled to stay afloat as you managed to get yourself to the ladder. You gripped it with all your determination. Your breathing was getting shallow but you didn’t know if it was the panic or the cold.

You screamed as you tried to pull yourself out of the pool. It hurt so bad. Your muscles sched and it was almost like they stopped working all together. You could hear Bravo barking as he paced the side of the pool. As soon as you got your upper body on the concrete Bravo took your sleeve in his mouth and tugged. It wasn’t enough to pull you out on his own, but it definitely helped.

Your body was wracked with shivers. You were shivering so hard it hurt. Your collar was beeping but you couldn’t bring your fingers up to push the button to answer. You were literally frozen… from the cold, from the fear.

The beeping just continued, and tears flowed down your cheeks. All you had to do was move your hands, you just needed to push the button, and you could answer, you could ask for help. You knew Dabi had to have been alerted that you were in danger by now. Someone had to be coming for you.

Bravo laid on top of you licking your face as you lost your mind. The beeping from your collar kept going, and you don’t know what possessed you, it must have been one last surge of adrenaline, your bodies last effort to save yourself. But your fingers crawled towards your collard and clicked the button.

“Y/N! Thank god! I’ve been calling! Are you okay?” It was Kats again. You were quiet for a while as you tried to cough up some water. “Y/n? Are you okay? Or is this another… false alarm?”

You sniffled, “I-I-I F-Fe-Fe-ll I-In T-The-Pool.”

“Uhm Okay? Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?”

A sob left you, “No! I-I’m Not O-Okay. I-I”

There was a muffled sound on the other end of the call, "Y/n, baby I need you to breathe. I know you’re scared. Can you get inside?”

“Dabi?” His voice filled you with the warmth you desperately needed, but it wasn’t enough to get your body moving. “No. I-Its t-too C-Cold. I-I-“

“Stop talking! Conserve your warmth. Shoto’s already on his way. He’ll be there soon baby. I’m going to stay on the phone with you until he gets there, but I need you to stay awake. Can you do that?”

Bravo curled up next to your neck and nuzzled into you while whining.

You don’t remember passing out. But when you woke up you felt like you were in an oven.

Your eyes slowly opened to find that you were under several blankets with Shoto sitting next to you with his hand on your forehead. “She’s still asleep… but I’m worried she’s getting sick. I’m pretty sure she has a fever.” He was on the phone with someone, “I keep going back and forth from trying to warm her up to cooling her down… Well what do you want me to do I’m not a doctor… Do you know anyone we can trust?” Whoever he was talking too was obviously not happy. “How do you suppose we do that?”

Your eyes closed and sleep claimed you once more. You tried to stay awake, but it seemed impossible. You didn’t even dream, you were just sucked into the black abyss.

The next time you woke up there was a cloth on your forehead and two voices whispering by the door.

“She probably needs an IV at this point. She’s been in bed for three days and she hasn’t eaten anything. Shoto this is more than just a cold. She’s really sick.”

You knew that voice belonged to Izuku. He sounded stressed out. Had he really said there days. There’s no way you had been sleeping that long.

“I agree, but where would we get one? Do you know how to set one up? No? Because neither do I. I swear all of you are crazy. First Dabi rips me a new asshole over the phone about how I was supposed to keep her safe, then Bakugo gives me shit for not being able to find her a doctor, and now you. I’m doing my best!”

You wanted to sit up and tell him you were fine. But you couldn’t because once again sleep was calling you back. The black abyss sucked you back in.

The next time you woke you felt slightly better, your head definitely hurt a little less.

“I can’t believe you idiots where hiding this from me? Did you not trust me, or did you just think you could dismantle the entire system on your own?”

When the fuck did Aizawa get here?

“You’ve been retired for years… we didn’t want to drag you into this.”

A brief silence passed, and it sounded like he was standing up from a chair, “Well I’m glad you did. She was in rough shape. The IV will help. Let me know if you need anything else. And I mean anything. Like you said… I’m retired now so I have a lot of free time.”

You managed to open your eyes, but had to squint at the bright light. “Was that Sensei?” Your voice sounded rough and foreign, but it was unmistakably yours.

Shoto’s mismatched eyes filled your vision, “Oh thank god you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

You tried to clear your throat but if felt like sandpaper, “Like shit…”

He climbed into bed next to you, “When I found you, you had hypothermia. I warmed you up but then you got really sick. I finally caved and had to call Aizawa. I don’t know how he knows how to set up an IV or how he even got his hands on all this medicine and medical equipment. But I’m not going to question it either.”

You leaned on him. “That was nice of him…” Your muscles still ached, and you you’re your skin was so sensitive. You just wanted to pass out again and wake up when all of this was over. “Where’s Bravo?”

At the sound of his name you felt a weight near your feet shift. He got up and made his way to you putting his head on your chest. His big fuzzy head was making you all warm and cozy. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Y/n no, come on I need you to eat something. Seriously, it’s one of your laws, you have to eat, so you need to stay awake.”

You hugged your blanket to you. “I’ll eat when I wake up… promise.”

This time when you slept you had dreams waiting for you. They were all weird and generally involved your time at UA. You dreamt of sports festivals, hanging out with your friends, and training with Sensei. But for once you didn’t have a nightmare. Which was a blessing.

“Wake up… you need to eat something… open your eyes baby.”

You stirred and found that you were laying on top of something, or rather someone. A hand was wrapped tightly around your waist while the other was brushing your hair out of your face.

Your sleepy brain was desperately trying to figure out if you were still sleeping because this had to be a dream.

“Are you really here?”

A kiss was placed on your forehead, “Yes baby, I’m really here. And I really need you to eat something so you can get better.”

His words had your stomach growling, making your groan.

Your eyes opened to find his blue ones staring back at you. The amount of concern in them was startling. “I must look like shit if you’re looking at me like that.”

Dabi didn’t so much as crack a smile at your humorless joke. “Well by law I can’t lie to you… so yeah. You’ve definitely looked better.” His thumb brushed your cheek, “Nothing that can’t be fixed with a shower and a good meal though.”

He helped you sit up and fluffed some pillows behind you. “You don’t have to do all this. I’m feeling better now. I can do it myself—”

Dabi cut you off with a glare. “Does it look like I care. I’m sure you could take care of yourself, but when will you accept the fact that you don’t have to anymore. Stupid girl.”

He reached next to him and picked up a bowl of soup. “This will be easy enough on your stomach. You are going to eat every last bite, and then we are going to take a shower.”

He didn’t leave anything up for debate. It was a demand. “We?”

“Yes we. You’re not leaving my sight for the foreseeable future.” He held a spoon full of soup up to your mouth. You wanted to protest that you could at least feed yourself but quickly thought better when you saw the look he was giving you. He wasn’t to be challenged or questioned.

So, you accepted it and swallowed, your eyes never leaving his. You continued on like that until the spoon scraped the last bit of soup from the bowl. You could see the tension in Dabi’s clenched jaw. He was upset, possibly even mad.

Your eyes averted to your lap, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? What do you have to be sorry about?”

You played with hem of your shirt. Trying to look anywhere but at those intense blue eyes. “I fucked up. I was careless and I… I fell into the pool.” Your fists clenched, “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t so fucking weak. I panicked, and it put me in danger. I’m sorry.”

His fingers intertwined with yours and pulled them to his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and you are most definitely not weak.” He kissed the tip of your nose, “Look at me please.”

It was so rare that he said please. It sent butterflies through your stomach. You raised your eyes to his once more, but this time they were much softer. “Your panic is totally understandable. If anything, it’s my fault because I’m the reason you have fucking PTSD.” He pressed his forehead to yours, “I feel like no matter how hard I try, I just end up hurting you. Even when I’m not here, my actions still have consequences.”

“Well you know what I think? I think I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you. I think you have saved me in so many ways, and you have been there when it matters most. Like right now.” You tucked yourself under his chin and hugged him until you felt the tension bleed from him as he relaxed into your hold.

You felt his chest rise and fall as you both just sat there holding each other.

Finally, he pulled back and sighed, “Okay as nice as it feels to hold you again… you kinda stink… can we go shower now?”

You frowned, “Hey! I’ve been sick. It’s not like I could bathe myself. Did you want Shoto to do it for me?”

He growled and threw you over his shoulder. “You’re lucky. If I wasn’t worried about nursing your sick ass back to health, that comment would have gotten your ass in trouble.”

It wasn’t until Dabi was stripping you down in the bathroom that you remembered Bravo. “Hey! Where’s Bravo?”

Dabi froze, “Who the fuck is Bravo?”

You rolled your eyes, “My dog asshole. Bravo. Where is he?”

He growled, “That little shit wouldn’t let me near you, so I threw him out.”

You pushed his hands away from you, “Excuse me… You WHAT? It’s cold outside. Go bring him inside right now!”

He grabbed your flailing hands and held them down at your sides. “I said I threw him out, not outside. If I had to guess the little runt is probably sitting outside the door to the bedroom, waiting to sink his teeth into my ankles the second I open the door. Relax.”

He let go of your hands and continued to undress you, and then himself. “You be nice to him. That little ankle biter is my new best friend.”

“Hmmm I don’t think so.” His arms wrapped around your now naked body. He picked you up like you weighed absolutely nothing and walked you over to the shower. “I think I’m your best friend.”

You smirked as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Oh you think so huh? So we’re friends now? That seems like a demotion to me…” You kissed his chest before pulling away. “Last time I checked friends don’t shower together… so I guess I’ll just get out and wait my turn—”

“Don’t you dare step out of this shower.” His fingers dug into your hips. “I haven’t seen you in a month, and I had to come home to find you sick and skin and bones.” He leaned in and you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear, “You are mine. I don’t think you truly understand what that means.” He kissed the side of your head, “You are my best friend.” He kissed your forehead, “My responsibility.” He kissed your cheek, “My confidant.” He kissed the tip of your nose, “My lover.” He kissed you jaw. “My partner.” His lips hovered over yours for a brief moment, “My everything.”

His lips smashed onto yours and you could feel all of your little puzzle pieces fit together again. The emptiness you had felt the past month evaporated. You felt whole once more.

There wasn’t anything overly sexual about this kiss. For the first time since you’ve known him, this was the first time Dabi had ever kissed you just to kiss you. And so you let him. You just stood under the water with him and kissed until you started to get lightheaded.

He must have felt your shift because he pulled away from the kiss and pulled you to lean on him. Without another word, he ran a washcloth over your skin and cleaned you up.

You remembered back to the days he’d help you bathe when you couldn’t walk. He’s taken such good care of you without asking for anything in return. So much as changed in the past few months, but there was something about this moment that felt permanent. Like no matter what happens Dabi will always be there to clean you up afterwards.

Dabi could feel the stress and the worry that had piled up over the last month melt away with every rise and fall of your chest. You were safe, you were okay, you were alive, you were in his arms.

Something almost broke in him when he heard the fear in your voice that day. When Bakugo called you after you fell in the pool. He had never felt so fucking helpless. He had a constant eye on your vitals after that. Calling his brother every single time there was even a tiny change. He’d never tell you this, but for a brief moment when Shoto couldn’t get your temperature down he panicked. He couldn’t lose you. Somewhere deep down he knew it was irrational to think you were going to die. But he couldn’t help it. You were sick, and only getting worse and he was thousands of miles away.

There was a constant nagging at the bag of his head of what if he didn’t get back in time. What if he didn’t get to say goodbye. What if… what if…

No. He’s fine now. You’re fine now. He had freaked out for no reason. You’re here, you’re safe, you’re alive, you’re his.

You had eaten the soup, showered, and taken your medication without even a hint of protest. You were being such a good girl for him. Doing everything he asked, never leaving his side.

It was obvious you missed him, and for some reason that made him feel… pride.

Now he had you curled up with him on the couch eating ice cream as you showed him all the things you had trained Bravo to do. You had a glint in your eyes as you commanded the furball to sit, lay down, roll over, and whatever the fuck else you had taught it.

Dabi had this weird feeling settle over him. Sitting here with you in his lap, as you ate ice cream and played with your dog. It felt like you had become… a family.

Family… was never a word that had inspired positive feelings for him. He had terrible memories of his old home life. He had a few fond memories of his siblings, maybe even some of his mother. But everything was overshadowed by the hell his father put him through.

But now he could feel that frozen heart of his, start to thaw out. He still struggles convincing himself that he doesn’t deserve you, and sometimes he still thinks you might be better off with Bakugo. But for now, you were his, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

His hand snaked down and spread out over your stomach and his chin rested on your shoulder. He watched Bravo hop into your lap and had to admit he was a little jealous of the little guy.

“Aw who’s a good boy? Who’s mommy’s good boy?” You squished Bravos cheeks together and kissed his nose.

“Okay enough with the dog. You’ve been loving on the dog since I got home. It’s my turn.”

You scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you feel threatened by a puppy.”

He flipped you over so you were chest to chest with him laying on top of you, caging you to the couch. “Of course I’m not threatened… but I’ve been gone a while and the mutts hogging all the attention.”

You giggled as he nuzzled into your neck demanding that you love him. “I can’t believe big, bad, who’s your daddy, Dabi is jealous of a little puppy.”

Your hands moved, one to his hair and the other snaked under his shirt and scratched his back. He hummed as his lips pressed a quick peck to your jaw. “I missed you…”

Your hands continued to trace patterns up and down his back. “I know. I missed you too.”

His breathing started to slow and he squeezed you closer to him. He started mumbling things as he slipped into the first peaceful sleep he’s had since he left.

“What was that? Dabi you’re mumbling honey.”

He let out a huge sigh and mumbled again only this time slightly louder, “Said ‘m gonna putta baby in you.”

*************

*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn't your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible.

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees.

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were.

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen.

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it.

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

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sugako · 3 years

Text

alfajores y mentiras

timeskip!oikawa x reader

sum: after faking dating oikawa for a few months things start to heat up between the two of you and come to a head one night

cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, fluff, alcohol use (no one is drunk tho), mirror sex, spanking, oral (female receiving), face sitting, fingering, slight edging, size kink (implied), semi-rough sex, creampie, ‘princess’ nickname again

wc: 3.3k

a/n: part 2/2, this is mostly smut idek how it got this long but pls enjoy!! (part 1 if you want the intro)

Three months passed and being Tōru Oikawa’s fake girlfriend was just part of your life. You went to most of his games, you ate lunch and dinner together when both of your schedules allowed, and he gave you obnoxious kisses on the cheek and forehead whenever he possibly could. Each time his lips skirted a little closer to yours or his touches lingered longer and longer, but you pretended to not notice. It was nice in a way, all the emotional benefits of a relationship without actually being in one. But at the end of the night you were always alone in your bed, a wall away from him.

Any complicated thoughts you currently had about the arrangement were drowned out by booming music and the light buzz in your system from the drinks. To celebrate a new brand deal the team was partying in a club far fancier than any you had been to. Oikawa had personally chosen the tight blush mini dress you were wearily adjusting yet again. Leaning heavily against the high table, you watched as he sauntered back.

“A water, for my princess.” He set the glass in front of you and pressed a short kiss to the crown of your head. “And another drink for me.”

“Thank you, Tōru.” You hummed. The nickname had grown on you. It certainly hadn’t helped that he had started to call you it even when you were out of earshot of others.

He sipped his drink, but didn’t take his eyes off of you. Impossible to escape his intense stare, you finally met his gaze.

“What?” You asked quietly.

“You look really good tonight.” He said lowly while leaning into you. When his hot breath hit your cheek you couldn’t help but shiver.

“T-thanks, so do you. I mean, you picked out this dress, so thank you.”

With his roughened fingers, he tilted your head up.

“Can I kiss you, princess?” His normally whiney tone was low and huffy now.

“You kiss me all the time.” You giggled nervously and tapped your cheek. Pursing his lips, he took your hands into his and leaned in so his breath fanned across your face.

“I want to really kiss you.”

Gulping hard, you made no motion to move. “You’re just drunk.” You knew that was a lie. He had barely drank all night and the barely touched drink on the table beside you was only his second.

“I’m not.” His thumbs massaged the back of your hands, sending you into a confused spiral. If you really kissed him than this entire fake relationship would feel like a real relationship and you knew he didn’t want that. You wanted… well, you weren’t sure what you wanted in the long run, but right now you didn’t mind being kissed by Tōru Oikawa.

“Okay, uh, yeah, go ahead then.” You stammered out.

With your soft ‘go ahead’ his lips were attached to yours. You had expected his touch to be rough and lust-filled, but instead he was kind and passionate. Any concerned you had about the nature of your feelings were pushed aside when his hands slinked lowly around your hips. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting hard.

“It’s late. I wanna go home.” He gulped down a little of his drink and grabbed your purse, practically dragging you out of the club. If anyone noticed your quick departure, they didn’t say anything. In seconds he had hailed a cab and you were on your way back to your apartment.

He was uncharacteristically silent, obviously deep in thought, but his hand closest to you kneaded deeply in the soft flesh of your bare thigh. Attempting to keep from squirming, you clutched onto your seatbelt as though it would keep you grounded. As soon as the cab stopped and you had paid and tipped the kind driver, Oikawa was dragging you away. His hand was still clamped tightly over yours when you stepped into the elevator together.

You couldn’t begin to wonder what was going on in his head, but you had other thoughts on your mind.

“Tōru?” You asked quietly as the machine whirred and began quickly moving up the levels.

“Hm?” He finally looked at you, eyes hungry and sparkling.

“Can we kiss again?”

He responded by clutching you around the waist and meeting you with another deep kiss. You felt his hot tongue poke just past your lips, demanding entrance. Without hesitation, you offered it to him, moaning as he pulled you impossibly closer. Only when the elevator dings that you’re on your floor do you separate again. As you step out into your hallway, he speaks at last.

“Come over.” He says, already dragging you toward his door. You hum in agreement.

If you really wanted to, you could tear your hand out of his or speak up. But you don’t. When he gets the door open, he shoves you through and slams it behind him, backing you up against it. Your small purse drops from your hands onto the floor as you leaf your fingers through his soft brown hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” His mouth latches onto your neck and you cry out. “And tonight in this fucking dress.” Large hands snake down from the sides of your ribcage to the hem of the dress. “I just… fuck, I want to keep doing this with you, but I…”

His head slumps toward the floor, eyes downcast. You reach out and cradle his face in your hands to force him to look at you.

“You what, Tōru?” The look of concern on your face in genuine as he looks as though he may cry any second.

“I want to keep acting like you’re my girlfriend, but I don’t think it’s acting if I actually like you.” He paused to take a breath. “We’ve been friends for a little while and I’ve always thought you were cute and I really like spending time with you, but now… I couldn’t imagine ending this.” Oikawa’s pale cheeks flushed as he awaited your answer.

“Me either.” You whispered, wholly unable to contain your grin. He brought you into a bone crushing embrace, sighing deeply against your shoulder.

The moment, while awfully sweet, was stung by your overwhelming need to keep touching him. Your hands freely roamed up and down his back, eliciting a small, breathy moan from him. He lifted his head off your shoulder to capture your lips yet again. You tugged away at his jacket, which he quickly discard on the floor. His hands squeezed into your ass before he crouched just enough to wrap both hands around your thighs.

“Jump, princess.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. With your arms wrapped around his shoulders and legs around his torso, Oikawa hoisted you up. The stretchy fabric of your dress hiked up to reveal your scant white, lacey thong. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sight. You kept sloppily kissing what little exposed skin you could above the collar of his dress shirt.

Before moving he kicked off his shoes and helped you take off your own with one hand. When his hand came back up to cup your ass, he moved just a little too sharply, accidentally smacking you. A jagged moan forced its way out of your throat before you could think about what you were doing. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. He let out a short, wicked laugh.

“Very interesting…” he mused, beginning to walk toward his bedroom. After nudging open the door with one hand he brought it down on your bare ass hard. The sharp sting went straight to your pussy. This time, you tried to silence your much louder cry against his shoulder. “Whoopsie, my bad.” He snickered and turned on a soft lamp in the corner of the room.

His arms dropped you onto his low bed and he immediately began undressing. You glanced around the clean and fairly barren room, trying to figure out why it felt so large even though it wasn’t. At last the answer was right in front of you when you met your own face in the wall mirror that spanned over his sliding closet beside the bed. His devilish eyes met yours in the mirror when he had freed himself everything except his boxer briefs.

Your mouth drooled at the thick outline that pressed against the soft black fabric. Finally, you tore your eyes away from the mirror to really look at him. Unable to wait for him, you tore the dress off over your head as the bed dipped beside you. Not having worn a bra, since it wasn’t needed with the dress, left you only in your soaked panties.

Oikawa barely admired your body before latching onto one of your breasts. His tongue circled your hardening nipple while he eagerly sucked and nipped at your sensitive skin. With one free hand he toyed with the opposite breast. The other hand smoothed up and down the skin on the inside of your thighs, just barely brushing against your clothed mound. The thong left little up to the imagination and barely covered you, but that wasn’t a concern you had right now.

Just as his long fingers finally cupped your damp sex, he popped himself off your chest to press a wet kiss against your lips.

“So wet already, princess.” He said with a grin. You whimpered as he tugged the lace of your panties and the rough fabric brought needed friction against your clit. “And so sensitive too.” He cooed down to you. “Has anyone touched this little pussy since we started going out? Hmm?” His thumb pressed down hard just above your clit, the sensation driving a sharp cry from you.

“N-no,” you breathlessly sputtered out, “No one.” You gasp when you hear the soft squelching noise from how he’s kneading your cunt.

“I bet you could cum just from this, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” your whine is lewd. It’s almost infuriating to agree with him, but you do anyway, too swept up in the feeling. The soaked fabric and his fingers work in a steady rhythm against you. The sparks build up in your stomach, tightening that familiar coil. Your squirming under his every hot touch, hips bucking up to meet his motions. Just as you feel yourself nearing the edge, he pulls away and yanks you up with him. He yanks the flimsy fabric off of you and tosses it onto the ground.

He kisses away the disappointed look on your face. “I’ll make you cum in your panties another day, baby, I promise. C’mere,” He leans back horizontal on the bed, “Don’t be shy now.”

Confused and heart racing, you do what you expect him to want and reach out to palm his cock. The angry red tip is peeking out just under the band, leaking a bead of precum onto his toned lower abdomen. When he laughs, you yank your hand away in shame, worried to ask what you did that was so funny.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I meant come here and sit on my face.” He says slowly so you can hear every word.

“Oh, I, uh… yeah, okay.” The words barely make it past your flustered lips as you crawl up his body. He helps adjust you over his broad shoulders, fingertips digging into your hips as he lowers you down. Only when you relax and look up do you realize you’re facing yourself again. From his position on the bed, Oikawa, rolls his eyes back just enough to watch you when he takes his first lick.

“Watch me make you cum.” He says quietly, the little hums from his voice vibrating into you. When he feels your body tense again, he slaps your ass just enough to jolt your clit against the tip of his nose. You twitch under the sensation, having been so close to release just moments ago.

Your eyes are locked to where his tongue is endlessly lapping up your slick. The transfixing image forcing your hips to twitch and buck against him every so often. He encourages every soft whimper and moan you make with a deep, vibrating grumble between your thighs. When his tongue forces its way into your drooling hole you actually cry out, hands crashing against the top of his head to tug at his soft hair.

His sweet, wide brown eyes meet yours clouded by lust. Your thighs are shaking around his head by the time he’s done fucking you with his tongue, but before you can relax he’s attaching himself to your pulsing clit.

“Tōru, gonna, hnngh… gonna cum.” Your voice is hoarse and ragged as you’re watching all of your own movements in the spotless mirror.

It doesn’t take much to set you over the edge. You can’t really tell what he’s doing, all you feel is pleasure as that tight coil snaps and your thighs clamp down on either side of his head. His sturdy hands keep you upright as your hips thrash against him. You can feel the hot wet drip of your own cum sliding down your thigh as he messily laps you up, easing you through the shattering orgasm.

When you settle at last, he scoots out from under you and holds you in his arm, still facing the mirror. He shifts you into his lap, spreading your legs apart with his own. You watch as your soaked cunt continues to clench around nothing. One of his hands holds you upright against him while the other caresses through your folds. He easily slips one finger into your hole, sighing happily as he lightly rests his chin on your shoulder to watch.

“Look at yourself, princess. Such a pretty little pussy and it sucks my fingers in so well.” He added a second, long finger and scissored them inside of you. It should have been more embarrassing, but your eyes remained locked exactly where his fingers were pumping and curling into you.

“Want you.” You huffed, trying to catch your breath. His cock was pressed just against the lowest part of your back and you could feel that he craved you too.

“You can have me soon, I’m just making sure you can take me.” He punctuated his words with a particularly wide sweep of his fingers that made you crumble against him.

“I-I can take you.” You argued. Happy with how you had relaxed around his fingers and not wanting to wait a minute longer, he popped his fingers out of your tight hole. He displayed his drenched hand for you. When he separated his fingers they remained obscenely connected by your thick cum.

“You’re so cute.” His voice almost sounded casual as he nuzzled into your neck. Frustrated with the wait, you literally took matters into your own hands, taking his slick-cover hand into yours and sucking off his fingers. Your hips rutted back into his cock, hard. Oikawa shuddered against you with a broken gasp. “And a tease.”

He ripped his hand from your mouth and threw you to lay normally on the bed. In seconds, he was looming over you again, pressing soft, cuddly kisses against your lips. Your grabbing hands found his waistband and tugged down until his cock was free. It slapped against your tummy while he shuffled to pull the underwear off the rest of the way.

You pulled him in for a deep kiss, desperately trying to lift your hips up to meet his. The thick length of his cock brushed against your slit with every slight movement of his hip. You realized he had been right to prep you so much. He was large. It shouldn’t have been surprising considering he was a taller guy, but you hadn’t expected such girth and length.

“Want me to fuck you?” He whispered when you pulled away from one another.

“Yes, please, please.”

His classic grinning smirk was back as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“No need to beg, princess.” He eased the tip in, grunting as he tried to move slowly. “You’re so tight even after all my hard work.” His overly whiney tone is enough to somewhat snap you out of your lovey lust-clouded haze.

“You didn’t work that hard.” You try to scoff, but it turns into a choke when he slips a couple more inches in, stopping just at the thickest point of his shaft. You whine and quiver below him, gripping onto his muscles shoulders to keep grounded. The stretch burns delicious inside of you and you can’t wait until you can take him all the way.

“What was that?” He hums. Part of you wants so badly to just submit and take back what you said, but another more devious part decides to push back.

“If you worked so hard then it shouldn’t be so hard for you to fuck me.” Your softer tone betrays the playfully biting words, but it’s enough to make him nearly bottom out in you.

“It wouldn’t be hard for me to fuck you. I’m just letting your tight pussy get used to this big cock.”

You can’t help as you flutter around his length at the words. The slight movement is enough to suck him in the rest of the way. You loudly moan into his ear when his tight balls lightly tap against your ass.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you sigh, trying to relax around him. As much as you want him to fuck you hard right there, you know you have to wait.

“Tell me when you’re ready, baby.” He hums, watching as your eyebrows knit in frustration. Taking one arm that’s propping him up over your frame, he reaches down to press at your clit, hoping to offer some distraction while you’re being molded to his shape.

You were struggling to focus on anything other than his cock splitting you. His nimble fingers brushing warmly against your clit was just enough to lull you into comfort.

“Ready.” You puffed out.

“Y-yeah?” Oikawa moaned as he slowly pulled himself almost all the way out of before evenly sliding back in. He continued on like this, going slow and deep inside of you until you were clawing at his back and demanding more.

“Please, harder.”

Your plead is immediately heard by Oikawa who kisses you softly on the temple. “Of course, princess.” His tone is gentle in comparison to his hips that immediately snap into you. The force is almost startling and his speed matches it.

His stamina seems endless as he ruts into you like he’s feral. Your body is burning with pleasure, so pleased to be filled up with him, you almost don’t notice when his fingers start to toy with your clit again. He’s panting little huffs into your ear, whispering sweet praises and nothings. His honeyed words only encourage you to cum faster.

You legs wrap around his middle, forcing his hips in closer, as you cry out beneat him. It’s too much, convulsing around his thick cock. Your cunt sporadically clamps around him, desperately trying to keep him in place as he fucks you through it. Fucked out, you limply hang onto him. Your head lolls to the side to simply watch the two of you in the mirror once again, lips parted as you gasped for air.

“Mmh, good girl.” He kisses you sloppily, grinning as he notices you watching yourself get fucked into the mattress. His words make your pulsing center flutter around him again and you feel his perfect thrusts start to get a little sloppy.

“You gonna cum?” You slur out, rubbing small circles into the muscles of his back. “You wanna cum in me?”

“Y-yeah, gonna cum in that perfect tight little pussy, princess.” He chokes out, hips stuttering. He sheaths himself all the way inside of you, shallowly pumping as his cum shoots inside of you. You’re holding him close, sighing into his skin at the way his hot cum fills you up. He catches your mouth in a sweet, but messy kiss as the last of his seed spurts into you.

“We should’ve started actually dating a long time ago.”

#oikawa x reader #toru oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #hq smut #oikawa smut #toru oikawa smut #oikawa toru smut

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2374

Summary: After seeing Steve's shield handed over to some stranger, Sam calls up Bucky, certain he's the one person who can properly commiserate. He doesn't really expect Bucky to answer though (the guy's become a bit of a recluse), or to hear the hints that he might be missing Sam as much as Sam's been missing him. Not that he'd ever say it straight out.

Sam is almost completely still as the feelings rattle through him like a roller coaster’s last run on a derelict track. He only lets it out—the blend of frustration, betrayal, and regret—in the way his fingers squeeze his knee through his jeans, skin damp against the denim. Keeping his hands clasped, and watching those clasped hands, was more grounding, but he needs one of his hands to hold the phone to his ear, and that activity is getting pretty damn tired.

Bucky’s voicemail clicks on for the third time in a row.

“Bucky,” Sam says, “I know you prefer calls to texting, so what are you doing ignoring me, man? Haven’t used your cell in so long that you’ve forgotten how to hit the answer button? At least it rang. That’s something, I guess.”

He sighs away from the speaker where it won’t be recorded for Bucky to hear later. Maybe he did divert his message from the snarky sarcasm he was planning to leave the guy, but Bucky doesn’t need to hear him sigh on top of that.

For a few moments, Sam taps his foot along with the muffled music of his nephews’ video game coming through the closed door. He knows the boys’ routine (and if he ever forgets, he sees the copy Sarah has on the fridge door) and that this isn’t their usual scheduled time for whatever they’re playing out there. Best guess: Sarah wants them hogging the TV so she won’t be tempted to peek at that government-sanctioned shitshow. Sam can’t blame her. Actually, he wonders if she blames him. The disappointment was so clear in her eyes before he stopped making himself meet them. He thought he was doing the right thing when he handed the shield over. Are there people out there who think he’s let them down, or just his sister? Just himself?

He can’t talk to Sarah right now and he’s thankful that she’s giving him some time to himself, but as soon as he got it, he realized he didn’t know what to do with it. Just like that shield. Dialing Bucky over and over—tapping in every number every time because that appears to be part of this pity ritual he’s performing—seemed like the thing he should do. Probably won’t answer. That asshole is terrible at staying in touch. Still, Sam’s heart feels a little heavier with every word closer he gets to the end of this message. Feels like he’s trying to keep the thing afloat in his chest, like his parents’ boat down at the dock. This is what he knows he should do when everything in him wants to sink—reach out, talk to people. Kinda self-sabotage when he picks the one person almost guaranteed not to answer.

Oh, he’ll hear back from Bucky eventually, probably a handful of choppy texts sent in the middle of the night two weeks from now. Sam knows his pattern; Bucky’s chattiest between 3am and 4am, so chatty that what are likely intended as longer blocks of text arrive in broken fragments because he wants to make everything into neat paragraphs, like he’s writing a damn letter, instead of just getting to the point, but he hits send too soon. Sam would teach him—with plenty of mocking and name-calling, but he would teach him—only while he’s been running ops all over the planet, Bucky’s shrunk his own world way down. He’s gone local to the extreme and it aggravates Sam, even though Bucky isn’t his responsibility, isn’t his other inheritance from Steve. It’s sorta just easier to feel like Bucky is a misplaced bequest than to acknowledge that maybe he misses the guy and his sharp-shooter’s eye and his caveman hair. He can’t keep calling him.

“Thought I’d give you a heads-up,” Sam says, voice weary with this half-true excuse. “Maybe you already saw.” He clears his throat and says quickly, “Anyway, guess I’ll hear from you when I hear from you.”

He’s pulling the phone away from his head and has barely ended the call when it’s ringing in his hand. He answers and catches Bucky’s voice saying his name before it’s even back up to his ear.

“Bucky?” Sam says. “You have a senior’s moment and forget where you left your phone?”

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I saw it was you and decided to ignore it.”

“But you called back.”

“You wouldn’t quit calling. Seemed like you needed me to tell you directly to knock it off.”

“Jackass.” Sam’s gaze darts to the door, but it’s still shut. No chance Sarah saw him grinning over this easy banter. Always the banter with this idiot. Always easy. He sniffs and turns his chair away from the black TV screen. “Did you see that joker on the news?”

Bucky’s either less self-conscious or more inept because he sighs right into the mouthpiece, an exhausted breath in Sam’s ear that has his fingers fleetingly digging into his knee.

“Couldn’t believe that shit,” Bucky tells him in a rough voice. He’s clearly holding back his own feelings about today’s events and, from the sounds of it, they’re more along the lines of anger, hurt, and a simmering desire to wrench the shield from the arm of the new Captain America. “You know that thing’s supposed to be yours.”

“You saying I should’ve done something to stop it?” Sam demands.

“Coulda.”

Sam forces his shoulders to drop, draws a slow breath in and pushes it back out.

“It wasn’t mine anymore, if it ever was. I gave it to the Smithsonian. They sealed it in this glass case and added it to the exhibit.”

“Not a very tight seal.”

“Guess not,” Sam agrees.

“You shouldn’t have turned it over,” Bucky says. Sam’s silent, frowning, and Bucky goes on. “Forget about the shield being given to somebody else—it shouldn’t have even been in a glass case. Doesn’t belong there.”

“I do just fine without it,” Sam assures him. The practicalities of carrying that shield around are more straightforward to discuss than his yawning uncertainty in the face of Steve’s legacy and his place relative to it. “The shield would only get in the way of the wings.”

“You and those wings.”

“Hey, they carried me over Tunisia recently. Show some respect.”

“Didn’t hear about that,” Bucky says in a tone that’s difficult to interpret, though Sam squints thoughtfully as he listens.

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t even be telling the likes of you, but it was discrete. As far as the major players are concerned, I was never there.”

“So it was illegal?”

Sam’s head tips back as he laughs hard.

“Why, you wanna turn me in?” he jokes. “Working on the government’s trust? What’s the next level up from a pardon? Knighthood?”

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Bucky groans, which really does make Sam smile.

“I’m sure it would’ve been illegal if you were there,” he says automatically. Too fast, his imagination fills it in, a fictional alternative materializing in his mind. Him and Bucky, cocky in reckless freefall. Him and Bucky, fighting back-to-back in a plummeting aircraft. Sam screening Bucky from enemy fire with his wings. Bucky deflecting a stray bullet with his arm before it could hit Sam.

“Nah, I can’t do that no more.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you’re an angel.”

“Anybody get hurt?” Bucky asks.

Sam glances through the window at the blue sky, the truck rolling unhurriedly past with the driver’s arm hanging out to catch the sun. Beautiful day. He remembers a kick that sent a guy through the door of the plane, sucked out into the sky, another guy tossed aside who tried to fight him in midair, and a helicopter aflame as it went down. He shrugs and figures Bucky’ll hear the gesture in his voice.

“Nobody who didn’t know the risks.”

“Of going up against Captain America?” Bucky probes. Sam rolls his eyes.

“You know, that would almost be a compliment if you got my name right.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not using the name just to avoid compliments from me.”

“I honestly can’t say which one would feel more wrong,” Sam says, passing a hand over his head as he leans back in his chair, “calling myself Captain America or hearing a little overdue praise from you.”

“I’m not really a words guy. Ask my therapist.”

Sam sits with that for a second. He’s happy that Bucky’s talking to someone. He needs it, badly, after decades of violence and being belted into the passenger seat of his own brain. It’s more than Bucky’s ever admitted to him before, but Sam would bet—and bet big—that seeing some stranger named as Steve’s successor today has gotten to Bucky as much as it’s gotten to him. Something like that is bound to open Bucky up a little. He’s the only other person Sam can imagine the news having such a monumental impact on.

“You could try words,” he goads, not wanting to leave Bucky hanging more than a few seconds after his admission. “What else do you have if you don’t feel like being a human action figure?”

“I have my system. My rules.”

“Oh yeah? What rules?”

“Three of ’em,” Bucky informs him. “Nothing illegal. Nobody gets hurt. Making amends for the actions of the Winter Solider.”

“You don’t have to make amends for something you—”

“Don’t. It… helps.”

And who is Sam to question what’s helping Bucky? After the multiple-lifetimes’ worth of hell the guy’s been through?

“Good for you, man,” Sam offers softly.

“Save it, Sam.” The words are clipped but light. Sam grins.

“No words for me either? You more comfortable with me sticking to actions? How are we supposed to talk to each other when you don’t come to Tunisia with me?”

“Wasn’t invited,” Bucky quips back.

“You mighta been if you answered your phone more often. I’m not gonna send you the details to a covert operation in a text.”

“You wanted me in Tunisia?”

“You get shit done,” Sam acknowledges simply. You wanted me in Tunisia? echoes in his head. His heart’s bobbing like a buoy now. You wanted me in Tunisia? You wanted me?

“Not like that.”

“‘Not illegal,’” Sam repeats. “‘Nobody gets hurt. Making amends.’”

“Right. Can’t do any of that.”

“Well, I’m glad this regime’s working for you, but you have to admit it’s weird that I saw more of you when we were fighting alien hordes.”

“What can I say?” Bucky asks in a tone that seems to consciously flatten the charm out of it. “I’m old-fashioned now.”

Sam snorts.

“You were old-fashioned then.”

“I assume you had a team on the ground.”

“I had to,” Sam says over the sound of a squabble in the other room. Immediately, he can hear Sarah’s voice rising slightly above, breaking it up. Just like that, there’s the looping music of the video game again. She’s raised those boys well. “Couldn’t wait around for you.”

“I might show up if you asked me on better dates.”

“It wasn’t a date, it was a goddamn op.”

It’s startling to hear the sound of laughter. Not hearty, deep, rich, or loud, but definitely laughter. Bucky laughs? Sam backtracks a minute. Bucky makes jokes? About dating? About the two of them dating? Evidently, that is something he’s capable of, along with returning calls during daylight hours.

Sam shifts in his seat.

“You could come around sometime,” he suggests, nervously rubbing a hand up and down his thigh. “If you like fish and you’re ever in Louisiana.”

“I do like fish,” Bucky says. “I’ve been going to this sushi place a lot lately.”

It’s not his taste that surprises Sam—it’s the readiness with which he responds to the invitation. He would’ve sooner guessed that Bucky would tell him to shove it up his ass. In a joking way, but still.

“On dates?” Sam asks, telling himself he’s providing some good-natured hassling and that it has nothing to do with the odd feeling he got when Bucky’s joke about them dating caught up with him.

“One. Mostly, I go with Mr. Nakajima.”

“And that’s not a date?”

Sam laughs and wishes he could shut his own mouth as firmly as he’s (many times) told Bucky to shut his.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his eighties, so he’s more age-appropriate for me than most people, but I murdered his son,” Bucky says grimly.

“Amends?” Sam guesses, adjusting his tone to cope with Bucky’s emotional switchback.

“I haven’t told him yet, but, yeah, I’m working on that.”

They’re both working on something, Sam thinks. Both confronting something that feels too big to tackle—the decision not to announce himself as the new Captain America, guilt for assassinations Bucky had no control over but which span the better part of a century. Sometimes it seems to Sam that they go up against the easiest situations as a team and face the hardest stuff alone. But he called Bucky, and Bucky called back.

“You could bring some of those amends down here and trade them for a snapper dinner,” Sam proposes, aiming for irritatingly cheerful to pull Bucky back out of the dark.

“What do I have to make amends to you for?”

“Being a dick. I’ll text you my sister’s address.”

Sam swiftly ends the call. There are two possible sources to which he can attribute the small surge of adrenaline he feels: hanging up on Bucky and the fact that he might’ve just asked him on a date. When Sam dialed, he knew it was because he didn’t want to do this alone, but he thought that meant watching the appointment of an upstart Captain America. Although he believed he could count on Bucky’s understanding today and for the near future, asking him down to have dinner with Sarah and the boys (or tricking him into it, since he didn’t exactly say it’d be a thing with the whole family) lengthens the timeline. Near future? Inviting Bucky to meet his family and see where he grew up means recognizing that he’ll be in his life a little longer. Alone? Sam might forget the meaning of the word.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck’s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

-----------------------------------------

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

------------------------------------------

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

---------------------------------------------

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #trans duck newton #reader request #meet ugly #boxer au

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rovinky · 3 years

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pynchinsky prompts time!!!!!!!!

58. Ordering their favorite fast food when they don't feel like cooking.

pynchinsky + the plague times + quarantine/long-distance + sometime in the future when Adam is finishing up undergrad

"I feel like fucking shit."

Kavinsky's words come through the laptop's speakers tinny and small but Adam can't find the damn bluetooth speakers. Ronan looks at the screen, studying Kavinsky wrapped in a blanket burrito style, heavy bags beneath his eyes. If he were here, Ronan would take care of him but they've been separated by a quarantined lockdown for months.

Ronan snorts and even though if Kavinsky were here he would certainly take care of him, he can't let him know that. Never showing his hand as too soft, Ronan just rolls his eyes a bit. "It's just a fucking cold, you big baby. It's not the plague."

"How do you know?" Kavinsky snaps.

"I don't," he admits, leaning back against the couch.

"Where's Parrish?"

"Looking for the better speakers," Ronan replies, his gaze shifting to where Adam is bent over in his Harvard sweatpants which is definitely a sight to behold. He whistles in appreciation.

"Found them!" Adam shouts, ignoring Ronan's whistle entire before he returns to the laptop. "Here."

Ronan turns the speakers on and soon Kavinsky's voice no longer sounds as if he lives in the laptop's sound system. "There," he says. "That's fucking better." He makes room for Adam on the couch and wraps his arm around Adam's shoulders once he's seated.

"I'm sorry you don't feel well," Adam commiserates. "I'm sure Ronan is right, it's probably just a cold."

Kavinsky huffs and shrinks further into his blanket burrito. He's been lying on his side, his device stationary on the bed. "Just dream me a cure, Lynch."

Ronan flips him off while he grabs his phone. "Dream yourself a cure."

"Can't dream when I'm sick."

"Sucks to suck, you big ass baby." Ronan opens up one of the food delivery apps, putting in Kavinsky's address instead of their apartment in Cambridge.

They recently moved to a townhouse, much to his chagrin but Parrish needed to be living close to campus so he could finish up undergrad and then continue with law school. Ronan left the Barns behind, finally ready to start a new chapter in his life, but Kavinsky remained in Henrietta because they weren't sure they were all ready to be fully together.

They danced around the idea of moving in together for a while but then the plague took place and now they've been quarantined in place for months. He hasn't seen Kavinsky in person for over a year but they're finally scheduled to receive their first doses of vaccine next week.

Soon.

"You find an appointment for a vaccine yet, K?" Adam asks Kavinsky while he eats some leftover Chinese food.

Kavinsky snorts. "Around here? Fuck no. I'll probably have to go to Alexandria to get stabbed. I need to fucking drag Prokopenko with me."

Ronan hums and tries not to reveal the fact that Prokopenko's name alone sends jealous slamming down his spine. Instead, he finds Taco Bell and starts to put in Kavinsky's massive order. Rationally, he knows Prokopenko is not even interested in Kavinsky anymore and Kavinsky is heavily invested in them but a year without being physically together in a long time.

He never thought he would able to miss Joseph Kavinsky but goddamn was he fucking wrong.

"Ignoring me now, Lynch?" Kavinsky asks. He tries and fails to sound annoyed, coming off as sad more than pissed off.

Ronan smirks and finishes up Kavinsky's order. "No, just ordering you Taco Bell because I'm a fucking sucker."

Kavinsky's eyes widen a bit and he smiles a small private smile just for them. "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah. Get your panties out of a twist." Ronan blushes and shoves his phone away as he tries to pretend he doesn't want Kavinsky in the same room as them.

Adam takes another bit of Chinese and shakes his head. "You're both so disgusting," he says. "So gone on each other."

"And you two aren't?" Kavinsky demands.

Adam laughs. "Didn't say that... Ronan and I get our first shots next week and then if we can get you vaccinated, we can see each other."

Kavinsky sighs in relief. "Soon."

"Yep," Adam agrees.

Ronan laughs suddenly as he pictures taking Kavinsky to the vet to be vaccinated. A stupid thought but he can't help but laugh.

"What?" Kavinsky asks.

"Just..." Ronan laughs harder, covering his face and then blushing because he knows Kavinsky will probably bite back about him being the dog in the scenario. "Better call the vet to get you a vaccine appointment, K."

Kavinsky gives him a look of faux-shocked offense. "Oh, fuck you, Lynch. I'm not Gansey's dog."

Ronan continues to laugh. "We'll even get you a tag that says you're vaccinated."

"Shut up!"

Adam smiles as they laugh and joke. Ronan's laughter trails off after a while and he smiles widely. "Shit," he says. "We'll see you soon, K."

Kavinsky nods. "Yeah, soon."

"Love you, asshole," Ronan says softly, softer than he means but absence really does make his heart a lot fonder.

Kavinsky rolls his eyes but he looks content for a moment. "I love you, too. Both of you."

Adam waves and Ronan slowly ends the call, sighing. Soon.

They'll be together very soon.

#pynchinsky #joseph kavinsky #ronan lynch #adam parrish #fluff #this is so sstupid sorry lmfao #self indulgent baby #trc #tdt #my writing #xenos #declan lynch

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lookingforhobi · 3 years

Text

♡ tour ♡

TOUR (Part Two)

Summary: It was just a tour with your friends to explore Seoul. But life gave you Namjoon. Yes, Kim Namjoon, the leader of a world-renowned group BTS.

Author’s Note: This is originally planned as ONE-SHOT but some comments were asking for it. Long overdue because life happens but here it is finally! Please don’t reupload or make YT content without my permission. This is purely imagination.

Click the link for the part one on my Youtube channel

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

au/genre/warning: too much heartbreak; mentions of self-harm, mental health issues; pregnancy warning, unprotected sex; aggressive

Word Count: 12.9k

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Your hands are shaking as you shuffle through the set of keys to your new apartment. This has been the biggest leap of faith you ever did so far. Well, aside from your craziness and dating Kim Namjoon! But you try your best not to think of him and remember the promise you made yourself not to reconnect with him anymore. You are here because finally you’ve gotten the offer in the University to teach- a dream that happened before you started knowing Kim Namjoon better, not just as idol but the real Kim Namjoon. You sighed when you finally open the door and immediately shut it behind you. It feels different and home sickness starts to creep in. The last time to set foot to this country was with your friends, with the goal just exploring what the place has to offer, but Seoul gave you Joon. “Here you go again with Namjoon, Y/N,” you sighed to yourself. Sometimes you wish you are in different world, in parallel universe. Maybe there, things would’ve worked out. Or maybe in another life, you’d be in the same world and life would be better. “Suck it up!” you told yourself. You can’t live in what ifs and what not’s. You’re here, now. That is what matters.

You picked up your phone and dialled your Mom’s number. Living away from home, with no friends around, in a place where your what ifs are, are kind of tough. You swallowed hard when your mom picked up. She was supportive of your dreams, but when she learned you’re going to Seoul she got worried. She knew about you and Namjoon, though confused what is the real reason of the breakup, she knew you’re in for another heartbreak once your ways intersect again.

“My sunshine, how are you? How’s the apartment? How’s your flight? Have you eaten yet?” your mom worried as ever. “I’m good, Mom. Apartment’s nice, but I haven’t unpacked yet. I just got here. The flight? Urgh, I slept before the plane takes off so…” You laughed. “that’s good. Do you have food there? At least eat something before resting. You can unpack later" You smiled at her remarks, you’re going to miss her sweet nagging and the way she babysits you sometimes. “Mom, I’m a grown-up woman. A strong independent woman. Okay? Don’t worry. I got this handled like a queen!” you chuckled. “Like me,” she added. The call run for what it feels like forever, as you talk about your goals and schedules and anything, you started unpacking your stuff. Placing the family photos carefully and making sure your apartment feels like home one way or another. You smiled seeing your friends’ photos. It was the greatest adventure that winter. It was unexpected, the events were unplanned, it left a big impact of your life..and to think about it, it is one of the reasons you decided to pursue your dreams. Partly, Namjoon pushing and keeps on bugging you to, but mainly because this is where you dreamt of settling way long before you knew BTS exist. Your fascination to South Korea, the culture, tradition, and history of the place made you fall in love, added the amount of KDramas you grew up with- being Goong on top of the list because of the historic and cultural twist of that rom-com.

“Rom Com,” you laughed to yourself. The word that got Namjoon puzzled the first time you talked about favourites. He made a lot of funny poetic thing out of those words, clearly making a big deal of flexing his brainy ass! You smiled to the memories of your dating journey. But as soon as you realised, bitterness and sadness took over again. It has been 3 years since the breakup, and you can’t still take it out of your system. You blamed yourself for being a weakling, a coward. Overly dramatic and pathetic. Well, that is what other fans told you when they found out he’s dating someone. Great thing is BigHit got to intervene before people starts digging into HER that makes Namjoon’s heart flutter and inspired. Writing the song HER in record-breaking time. You can’t bear to hear it now without crying your eyes out for days. It teared you out completely, leading to issues that needs professional help. He didn’t know about that, of course you would never say it. You ended the relationship without further explanation. You dropped it like it doesn’t matter anyway. “It was just a fling.” That was what you said. But you know clearly it was not.

Of course, it’s hard dating an idol. The moment you stepped into the airport when you left after your Seoul getaway, you knew it won’t work. You cling on to the promise that he’d make time to visit you secretly, or make sure you can come to their concerts if your schedule permits. But as life gave you Namjoon in an unexpected time, fate decided to give you the bitter reality. He missed your calls, he forgot your birthday, he’d text once a month. You tried to understand all of that. He clearly has dreams to chase, and you can’t expect him to be with you-especially with their growing popularity. All the concerts, and pressure of producing new tracks, is too much for him…and you came along. Another added stress to what is already on his shoulders. He pleaded to make it work, but you knew it won’t. The biggest part-lack of human touch. You crave for it. You needed it. You needed to be reassured, and you consider touch as your love language. And it is very impossible for two people living miles apart. Heck, worlds apart! At first, you find ways. But virtually, is nothing compared to what you’ve shared back then. The amazing touch, sounds you never knew existed, his deep voice moaning your name… You shake your head once more. “Not gonna happen again. 3 years, Y/N. He moved on. You broke the poor man’s heart because you’re weak. So let him go. Let go!” you say that every day, like a mantra that keeps you going through the whole day.

You opened your SNS to check up on your friends and update them of everything. They are already planning of visiting you. Unlike with them, they did not break Yoongi and Jimin’s hearts. They made it clear after that triple date not to get involved emotionally. They knew better, you did not listen to them, hence they named you “the hard-headed, heart-breaker”. You love their honesty though, and the way they put up with all your drama and crying and making sure you’re attending therapies. It’s not that you’ve attempted to end your life though, you just didn’t find any more reasons to do the things you used to love. You started drifting away from everyone else, shutting doors even to your mom, your blank stares , and the forgotten ways to find happiness. They were the first to notice you drifting away from life. They initiated therapy sessions, made sure you were never alone but still maintaining your independence, and still respecting your privacy and preferences. They are your lifeline. And without them here, it is a tough journey. But you know, you were never alone really. You found your ways of dealing and living with it, you know the pre-warning signs. You grew stronger through it all.

By the end of the day, your apartment is tidied up, all your stuff are organised, and you felt yourself starving. You decided to have a walk around the neighbourhood, looking for essential spots around the area. You found your way towards one convenience store, and that is when it hits you. Looking straight ahead, his face is plastered everywhere- even on drinks! You wish you could just have amnesia and forget you ever met. If you could just start over, you would not let a strange man jumped into your taxi from the airport. You sighed as you try to ignore his grin from the coffee canister. You picked Hoseok instead. Their group has gotten huge that if you meet people from the outer space, they will certainly know about them, too. The idea made you smile, and as crazy as it sounds. But that what Namjoon has always manifested- their message transcends to everyone. Not just being popular but creating an impact that could change one or two lives. Yet he clearly cannot see how one group touched millions of people, and continue touching and attracting positivity to every homes. You are so proud of what they have become. Not that you have personal history together, but because before you’re HER, you’re an ARMY first. You look back to the moments when you have been struggling and how the group manage to lift you up. Ironically, the leader became one of the reasons for your confusion and heartaches for the last 3 years. If there’s an advice you can give to your younger self- DO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH AN IDOL.

Weeks by, and little by little you get to adopt and create a system of how you’re going to survive this new beginning. You have also met some friends which are so lovely, even some from your country. Luckily, when Hallyu wave is the topic, you can manage to explain the true reason of you coming to South Korea- which is their rich cultures and amazing landscapes. You’ve also visited the places on your bucket list with the guide of your friends, particularly Felix. He has been very accommodating and welcoming and would give you amazing trivia about the places. You spend a lot of time together and sometimes he’d pick you up at work. He’s a nice guy, and you’re starting to like him but you know you’re not ready for anything yet. You made that clear the first time you talked about relationship, but not revealing the identity of the reason.

Days rolled to weeks, turned to months and before you know it it’s been almost a year since you’ve moved. You have been thriving and surviving, managing to build a wall between you and all BTS-related stuff. It has been quite a struggle because they are everywhere but you were able to filter the Namjoon you dated, pretend he’s a different guy from the BTS leader. Because from what you’ve learned, he is really different from RM. Namjoon is real, RM is just a tiny speck of Namjoon.

Fate must’ve been really bored one day you went to a coffee shop after work. It was an unexpected get together with your friends when a familiar face appeared. Your heart begins to race, you feel blood draining from your face, and you hold your breath. “Seems like you’ve seen a ghost” said Ligia. You can’t speak, you just stared at Manager Sejin and Namjoon entering the café. “You said you’re not into KPop?” asked Jenna. You can’t find answers, you can’t think. All you want is to bask in Namjoon’s ethereal presence. He still has that effect on you. The photos from everywhere is nothing compared to the actual Namjoon. Photographers don’t do justice no matter how they try. The man’s beyond aesthetic. His hair, that silver hair you always compliment…and did he hit the gym? He clearly did, his shoulders… his chest…oh that veiny arms who used to wrapped around your waist. That chest you used to sleep on. You’re longing for his touch…. You sit there staring at him, not minding all the questions and commotion from your friends. Not until…

“Y/N?” His voice, his heavenly voice, waking you up from your frozen state. “Oh my. You’re here? Here, here?” he walks towards you and all hell lose. You looked at your friends and strangers looking blankly at you two. Manager Sejin manages to warn anyone not to take photos, bodyguards started coming in. But you, everything seems to be moving slowly. “Ba---” he was about to say it, as if it’s the most natural thing to say. “Nam—Namjoon. H-hi" you finally found your voice, shaky and whispered, but still manageable. You didn’t know how but your friends seemed to be nowhere. It’s just you and Namjoon now, even Manager Sejin seems to have left. “Why? How? When?” he asked. Not sure how to answer, you just shook your head. “I’m sorry. I can’t, I… I don’t know how to explain.. not now, Joonie" you whispered. He smiled but you know he’s confused as well. You stood there for what it feels like eternity. You longed to touch him, you wish you could. But reality is creeping in. If you do it, it’ll ruin your Namjoon. It’ll ruin him and the guys. You cannot afford to do that. You kept your composure and bowed, attempting to walk away. Because any second, you’d burst crying and it’ll be no turning back. Your friends will start asking questions, social media will be filled of your photos, articles will be put up, heck Dispatch has its own ways of finding even your whole information. No, you must leave now!

“Can I at least call you?” he suddenly whispered. “I deserve answers, Y/N" he begged. You looked at him, he’s devastated as well. Was he struggling for the past years too? Trying hard to hide his true emotions, putting up a show for the whole world to know he’s doing great? You nodded. “Same info", you replied. “Thank you. It’s great to see you" he bowed, too formal, too stiff. He walked away first from the back door as Sejin walked past you. You bowed to both at them as they make their way out. When they’re gone, the store reopened but you chose to go home immediately leaving your friends with all their questions and worried looks.

You turned everything off- phone, SNS, laptop…anything that could connect you to the outside world. Right now, you just wanted to be alone. Soak in your own tears and begin hating yourself again. He was few feet away, so near…yet so far. You pinched yourself to make sure you can still feel anything except the emotional pain. Any pain, anything that could divert you from the thoughts of what if’s. “fuck it!” was all you can say while opening another bottle of beer. Sometimes you question how you get so lucky that Namjoon knows your existence. Yet cursed because every move means you could destroy him. “I just wanted a normal life! Date a normal guy! Hold his hand in public! Kiss him in front of the crowd!” You started shouting, over and over until you get exhausted. Curse.

You’re woken up by loud knocking. You checked the clock and it’s 4am, you only had 30 minutes of rest and whoever this is means it’s urgent by how heavy the knocks are. You remembered turning off all your connections, your friends must have been so worried. You peeked at the door, a tall guy’s silhouette stands there. “The fuck you want? Who are you??!!” you yelled. Beer breath coming out and you’re starting to get really dizzy. “open up Y/N" he whispered. “Namjoon? How the fuck did he managed to find me? You asked yourself. “Sorry, wrong house" you answered. “You can’t fool me. Let me in, please. It’s freezing" he begged. “Fuck Namjoon, it’s 4am what the hell are you thinking?” you asked him as you opened your door. You have enough beer in your system to act brave as you face the inevitable questioning. His scent was the first you caught. And God knows how much you missed that scent. 4 years since you’ve last smell that, and it brings back all memories. But now is not the time to think about those memories. “You’ve been drinking?” he has a hint of annoyance in his voice. You chuckled “duh!”. He sighed and sit himself down. “Why are you not answering?” now he seems concerned. “Disconnected outside world" you managed to reply as you tried your best to walk straight. “Jeez, Y/N! You’re wasted. This is not clearly the time" he remarked. “Yes, Kim Namjoon. This is not our time! There will never be our time!” you hissed in anger. He froze by your reply, hurt perhaps, and you started sobbing yet again. “In another lifetime, perhaps" you cried before everything turned black.

You woke up with the worst hangover headache. Everything feels heavy, and the sunlight is not helping at all. You groaned as you roll over your bed and noticed your clothes on the floor. Sudden gush of shock rush through your system as you try your hardest to recall the events from yesterday. NAMJOON! You immediately looked for signs of Kim Namjoon in your room. Aside from clothes on the floor, you’re also wearing new set of pyjamas. “Oh no no no no no no!” you prayed nothing happened between you. It will be a disaster, and you can’t let it ruin your lives again. You quickly run towards the kitchen and notice that the bottles of beer are now neatly packed by the kitchen counter, the living room tidy and not a single evidence of mess. “Joonie?” you asked. But no answer. You can’t be dreaming. No matter how drunk you were last night, you know he was here. He was, and the note on the table confirmed it.

Took the liberty to cook you breakfast. Also have medicines for headache. Lemonade on the fridge. Answer my messages/calls.

-NJ

You asked yourself how can he act as if nothing happened? Like you didn’t break his heart and tore him to pieces? Are you that irrelevant? Worth forgiving without even asking for one? How can he move on so easily? You did this, and your suffering for it but he acts cool and pretends to be okay. You pushed the food aside and went on to get the lemonade, which another note was attached.

Food first before medicine.

You rolled your eyes. And sighed as you open your phone. Messages came flooding through. From friends, your mom, voice mails, and notifications. But above everything, an unknown number with lots of missed call logs. You debated whether to call back that number, as if you don’t have a hint of who owned this number. Like on Cue, the number begins calling you. You were startled and almost dropped your phone. Your heart racing and skipping a beat at the same time.

“Hello?” you greeted.

“Finally!” Namjoon groaned.

“Why?” you asked plainly. “Nothing. Just making sure you’re up and eating.”

“Yes, I saw the notes. Thanks" you sighed. Then followed by silence.

“I have to go. But I'll call you again" he said, and ended the call.

What’s new? You mumbled to yourself. It was like that. It started with calls like that. He was always busy, you get it. You let him be, talk to you whenever he can. You never asked directly or demanded anything from him. His free time means writing new tracks, and talking to you at the same time. You were okay with it. His voice calms you down and brings comfort. He would send surprise gifts, too, with the help of Abi and Maigne.

You decided to call your friends.

“Whattt??? He went to your apartment? What was he thinking???” Maigne freaked out. “I don’t know, I didn’t get the chance to ask.” You answered. “Y/N! You didn’t…..did you?” Abi asked with questioning look. “No!.... I don’t know! I woke up with different set of clothes” you looked down, trying to recall everything but to no avail. “You…aiissshhh!!! I don’t know. How are you though?” Maigne asked, concern taking over. You shrugged because honestly, you don’t know. “Is there…is there any news? You know, SNS?” you waited patiently as both of them tried hard not to spill the tea. “Hmm. Nothing so far. Clear from dispatch. Comeback goals…, few buzzed about Namjoon and mystery girl at a coffee shop.. nothing much.” Abi said, as she scrolls absent-mindedly through her feeds. “Yeah, same", added Maigne. They were busy scrolling that they did not catch your reaction from the last statement. “Coffee shop". “What?” they asked in unison. “That was me" you swallow painfully. “Why would you leave that detail???” Maigne asked. “I was pre-occupied with him barging in my apartment. But yeah, that is how we met.” And you filled them with all the details you can remember. They are confused as well, and have different opinions on how to deal with Namjoon. “We’ll be filing our vacation leave soon. Hang in there, okay?” Abi reassured and you smiled as you ended the video call. You didn’t bother calling your Mom about Namjoon, she’ll just worry and you know she’s had enough of you getting your heartbreak.

You let go and ignored the urge to text him again. Besides, you learned that they’re preparing for their comeback. What you need to prepare is how to answer your new friends. Of course you can’t tell the truth. “I attended couple of album signing and other events for BTS. They have very sharp memories,” you lied. They didn’t bugged you again, as it has become a norm for the fans to attend public events. Days pass and you decided to focus on your work instead of basking around the idea of Namjoon, or reaching out to him. But then you receive a message from him:

Namjoon: Can we meet?

You: Outside? IDK Namjoon. It’s all over SNS

Namjoon: I’ll pick you up. The guys wanted to see you, too.

You: Is that even a good idea?

Namjoon: They missed you

You: Should we be talking first? I don’t want them to get the idea that I’m coming back

Namjoon: ok

You know it hurt him, just as much as it hurts you. But it is for the better. They might get the wrong impression of you coming back to Namjoon’s life just because you’re here now. They might protect you, they can protect you. They have been always supportive of you and Namjoon. But the main concern here is- will you be able to protect them especially Namjoon? You’ve put him in so much stress and heartbreak already, you can’t let that happen again as much as you missed him. His image is more important than anything. It’s the best you can do.

You: you can come here. We can talk here.

You were fixing your dinner when you heard someone knocking. You are not expecting anyone, except Namjoon. You furrowed your brows, it can’t be… But when you opened the door, it is him.

“Hi. Wasn’t expecting you. I thought we’d schedule or something,” you stuttered. “Oh, did I catch you in a bad time?” he hesitated. “No, no. I just thought you’re busy. Come in,” you try your best to calm your nerves. Seeing him here, miraculously you’re sober this time, makes you want to cling yourself around his arms. Feel him, touch him. It took all your might not to do that. “I’m preparing dinner. Do you wanna…join?” you can’t hide the awkwardness, but he smiled. The most reassuring smile. “Sure,” he attempts to stand up but you signalled him not to. It’s like you’re both testing waters, trying to hold back everything. “So, how are you?”, he asked while looking at the photos on the table. You scoffed “Surviving”. He nodded and smiled a little. “You?” you asked. “Album prep’s going on nicely.” “No, Joon. Namjoon. You.” You insisted. “I like it when you call me that. And yeah, I guess I am trying to survive, too” Then silence followed. You know it’s time to talk about what happened, but you don’t want to ruin dinner. Stalling, you’re good at it. Prolonging your agony perhaps but at least you’re buying a little more time to look at him. The man who was once you called home. “Dinner’s ready. Wine?” you want to kick yourself for offering alcohol when you want to talk about serious stuff. He nodded, showing his dimples. Your favourite…one of your favourite parts of him.

Dinner was fine but awkward. He tried to lighten up the mood by talking about the new album, the past concerts, the craziness of the guys, and how they get full schedule for the whole year. You are very proud of them, how they handle everything together all at once. “How are you, Y/N?” he suddenly asked. “I told you, surviving.” You replied. He nodded. “Listen..” you inhaled deeply. He sighed; he knows it’s THE TALK you’re going to have. “I’m sorry for bailing out.” You dropped your gaze on the floor, not wanting to see how devastated he is. “I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve... I should’ve fought harder. But I just couldn’t. I had to let go,” your tears begin to pool in your eyes. Your vision becomes blurry. He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. So, you continued, “You were the nicest guy- RM or Namjoon. And I just can’t be with you. I can’t ruin you, Joon. I won’t forgive myself if that happens. I can’t defend you. I can’t…” “please, stop” he sighed. “It’s not on you, Y/N. I was too busy I forgot about you, your needs. My promises” he sighed. “I knew it won’t work. But at least we tried?” you whispered, sobbing. “We did,” he whispered too, voice starts to crack.

Months past, you focused yourself and everything into work that you never had any chance of thinking about what happened during that night. It was all dramatic but freeing. You stopped questioning everything and decided to move forward instead of dwelling in the past. He is doing well, too. You started to follow them on SNS again, started watching their new MVs and interviews. You smile once in a while, and ironically, their new songs comfort you. You were back being ARMY. Whatever happened in the past is far behind your control and concern right now. Besides, you are an ARMY first. You also started going to the places you once visited with Namjoon. Your favourite place to unwind and de-stress is the restaurant near Han River where you went on a dinner date. It was awkward at first, memories came flushing. But every time you set foot, it becomes your comfort zone. Plus the view is really relaxing and heavenly. One hell night, you were rushing to get away from all the stress of work, you drive all the way there only to be told that the whole place is reserved for VIP visitors. To your dismay, you sighed and stayed outside for a little while. While you were about to go home, someone called your name. “Y/N? Is that you?” You turned around and you were immediately enveloped into his hug. “Oh my! It is you! Wow!” Jimin giggled. “Jimin! Hi. Um, what…you’re here?” you asked in panicked. “Yes, the boys are inside. Come!” he pulled you. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Chim.” You said shyly. “Oh don’t worry with Namjoon. He’s cool, he’s moved on. We know.” Your heart pains by his remark. “Yeah. But… I don’t know.” You hesitated. “Just drop and say hi then I’ll let you be. I promise. We just missed you having around.” He looked at you with puppy eyes, and who would not fall for that trick? Especially coming from sweet Jimin! You sighed and you let him lead you inside. “Look who I found outside!” Jimin screamed. They all looked at you, mouth wide open. You can’t bear look at them but you turned your gaze to Namjoon. “Y/N?” he stood up and walk towards you. “H-hi. I was about to go home. You guys enjoy the night.” You bowed to them and walk away, but Namjoon caught your arm. “No, no. Stay for a while. Join us. Right guys?” he asked them and they all nodded. You caught Yoongi’s eyes and he looks at you with angry look. You move your gaze to the floor, trying to contain your tears. “Yeah, Y/N. Join us” he said plainly. You know Namjoon felt the intensity of Yoongi’s words, too, but he shook it off. You smiled a little, unsure about Yoongi’s reaction. “So, Y/N. What have you been up to? Are you staying for good? Or you gonna run again?” he asked bitterly. “Hyung. Let’s not.. please drop it” Namjoon interrupted. The guys fell silent. You inhaled sharply, you were put in a hot seat, might as well give them what they want to hear. To hell with all the inhibitions and pretentions. “Look, I messed up, big time,” you started. “Y/N, we’re good. You don’t have to explain. We’ve already talked” he whispered. “No, Joon. We talked, but they didn’t hear me. They also need to know. What happened was not just between you and I. They were affected, too. I know.” You sighed. “I messed up. You’ve been so protective of me, of us. You did everything to keep my identity away from spying eyes. You protected me in a way I can’t protect you. I… I felt useless, I felt like a hindrance. I can’t come near you because I’m too afraid to be exposed. I can’t let myself ruin your career.” You swallowed hard before continuing.. “Namjoon went through a lot, I know how it feels because I got my heart broken too, you know. But you were there to console him, you have full schedule to at least help him get off his mind from me. I have nothing. I always had you to comfort me, but when it all happen, I can’t even listen to a single song nor can’t bear to say your name. You were my comfort, and I broke you. It’s selfish. I’m sorry. I will leave you be.” You started crying hard. Not giving a fuck of what you look like in front of everyone. You let your heart out, you’re

standing there vulnerable and looking pathetic but you don’t care anymore. You wanted to scream, you wanted to say you still care but you didn’t. You didn’t want to hurt them again especially Namjoon. “You know we are ready to risk everything just to see Namjoon happy again. He was doing well. Now, you’re here again? Why?” Yoongi asked without any emotions. “They offered me a job here. I know I should’ve rejected it. It’s dumb. But don’t worry, I will not get in your way.” You answered back. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N” Yoongi softens. He looked at you and to Namjoon. “Is there a tinge of hope when you accepted the offer, that Namjoon is part of why you accepted it?” he asked. You looked at Namjoon and started sobbing again. Because yes, you knew Seoul is home. You knew he was here. You didn’t expect nor look for him, but you let fate decide. You readied yourself of the possibility of bumping into him. Namjoon was about to hug you but you stepped back. “I can’t do this. Not again. I’m sorry” you bowed and run as fast as you could. Away from them. You opened up another wound, you did this. But you also felt relief for having the chance to explain to the guys why you did what you did. It’s for the best. Hopefully.

“So, since you’ve fully admitted to be an ARMY, can we please please please attend their concerts?”, begged Ligia when they announced the concert details few months after the storm within you had settled. “Concerts? You mean not just one day?” you asked bewildered. “YES! I’ve been saving up and finally getting enough money to go worldwide!!” she exclaimed proudly. You shook your head, “I don’t know. I have to look at my schedule first.” She screamed with excitement. “No promises!” you replied laughing. You fixed your schedule the next day you went to work, great thing concerts are scheduled during weekends. The ticket selling was nerve-wracking though! All your friends-ARMY or NOT, help you buy VIP tickets for both days. But Ligia seemed to be wanting more so with her constant nagging, you both applied for soundcheck for both days as well. And life gave you what you’ve wished for- both days with soundcheck privilege. “You’re one lucky, bitch!” she screamed when you told her you got them, unluckily for her she was not chosen. “Well, it was your idea!” you laughed, “I’ll sneak a photo or video for you” you tried to console her. “Namjoon,” she replied. All of a sudden, you gasp. “What??? I said I like Namjoon. Have photos or videos of him doing Bapsae please!” she begged. The memories of your first night came rushing on you. He was indeed great in that movement. You blushed as you tried to contain the giddy feeling taking over you. “Sure,” you managed to answer with cracking voice.

The day of the concert and you and Ligia were too excited and messy all at the same time. Her enthusiasm got over you as well as you both giggle with the posters you made and the outfit you’ve chosen for each other. You were planning something comfortable but Ligia won’t drop the lace and harness the boys were wearing during the previous concerts and concepts. “I’m not sure about this. We’ll be standing, screaming, dancing and crying in these tight outfits for 2 hours!” you screamed. “As long I catch Namjoon’s glimpse, I don’t fucking care!’” she screamed harder. Namjoon, looking at other girls with these outfit. Bitterness takes over. You sighed and let go. You’re not in any position to complain. He’s heavenly, and his dark gaze would turn anyone into feelings not known even to themselves. You shake your head to dismiss another thought of him. The que is outrageous as expected! But one thing that is amazing- ARMY strangers turn into friends the moment you’re in the que. They are all friendly and giddy and for a moment you know you’re part of something big, a family, a universe. And for what it feels like forever you are glad you’re alive in this lifetime witnessing history made by BTS. Ligia decided to come early even if she’s not part of the soundcheck, she wanted to meet all the ARMYs and started distributing gift and tokens to her new found family. You smiled and waved at her when it’s time to enter the soundcheck area. Adrenalin pumping all over your system, like it’s your first time seeing them. You smiled, trying to recall the happy memories you personally experience around the guys. One by one, the guys showed up. Hyping ARMYs and the crowd goes wild. You were screaming as well, and then he saw you. Out of all the crowd, his eyes dart on you. He looked at you from head to toe, and back to your face. You suddenly stopped and bit your lips. The boys were busy saying something to ARMY but here you are locking gaze with their leader. You saw him mouth WOW while looking at you- in a black tight leather mini skirt, mesh stockings. Red lace bralette topped with black leather jacket, choker and harness all over your body. You were cursing Ligia for making you wear such outfit but seeing Namjoon’s reaction made you feel glad. He liked it, clearly. Then Hoseok went to him and bumped him, signalling they’re about to start the soundcheck. Hoseok saw you as well and waved at you with wide eyes and silly smile. Only then you heard ARMYs screaming and you’re taken back to your senses. You pinched yourself and tried not to be too obvious with what’s happening in your body every time Namjoon looks at you. He’s sending butterflies, making your heart beat faster, taking your breath away. You remembered your promise to Ligia and took the risk of getting your phone out. It is prohibited though, but you don’t care anymore. You’re doing this not just for Ligia but for memories of what is happening to you, to him, right here. Like he knows what you are doing he went near to your area, winked sending all the ARMY screaming. Then for a moment, they rested and talked. Hoseok laughed and looked at you and all the members nodded. Jimin went to talk to the producers and Yoongi talked, “Okay this is not in the setlist but guess what?” and on cue, Bapsae played! “Shit” was all you can say as they disperse taking their own places in the stage. And a tease as he is, he chose in front of you. Your eyes widened and he showed his smirk, and you swore as you almost dropped your phone. He was at it- hard and wild. Making you sweat, swallow, squirm and trying to compose yourself. You reminded yourself once again of the reasons why you both decided to stop trying. You were fine, but damn Namjoon teasing you like this. You can feel the heat on your cheeks as he dances in front of you, locking gaze subtlety. He’s enjoying this, and whatever it is you are teasing him as well biting your lips and parting them with a sigh. He laughed and shook his head when the song ended. “WOOOOOOWWW! Amazing! See you later ARMYs!!!” screamed Jungkook. And that marks the

end of soundcheck. Before they went back, he glanced at you one more. You smiled.

You were out and showing the video to Ligia when suddenly you received a text. You quickly grabbed your phone away from her just in time the pop-up notification shows.

Namjoon: Wow. Lace and leather huh?

You: Ligia made me wear it.

Namjoon: Suits you well, Y/N.

You: Stop. I’m not going for the soundcheck tomorrow anymore!

Namjoon: you got 2 days? Just my luck

You: Rest.

Namjoon: See you later.

You furrowed your brows to his last reply but dismissed it anyway. “Who was that? You’re blushing!”, exclaimed Ligia. “No one.” You quickly deleted the messages and hand her your phone, “You want to finish the video or what?” She giddily takes it and melts in her own world.

After the concert, you felt as if you’re drained. Every time a concert ends, it’s like it brings you to a state of separation anxiety where you don’t know what else to do except re-live every moment. It goes like that all the time. You hang in there till the next time you get to hype with them, and longing starts to creep in. They were beyond amazing tonight, setting standards for concerts to the highest. Ligia was so happy and can’t stop talking about them, now confused more than ever between who her real bias is. “So, who’s your bias? I was too focused and I lost count how many times I swerve lanes tonight!” she exclaimed on your way to your apartment. “I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. “They all hit you in different ways, you know? So I threw that bias list and hype up to whoever that gives me the most feels in different situations.” She nodded. “So glad I was able to see them live. We’re lucky” she remarked. Yes, you are. And to your luck, you noticed a car parked outside your building. Great thing Ligia lives on the other building so you went separate ways. “See you tomorrow! And be sure to wear the outfit we’ve chosen or else..!” she bids as she runs to her building. Your eyes started to linger on the car parked. You don’t want to get your hopes up but who would park there with an unreleased Hyundai Palisade?

You dismissed the thought and continue walking towards your door.

Namjoon: 2 minutes

You ignored the message and decided to reply later as you settled in your couch to rest. But your rest was disturbed at exactly 2 minutes. When you opened the door, Namjoon entered quickly, looking back if someone saw him. “Shit, took you so long to go home,” he remarked. “Are you insane? Why are you here, Namjoon! Fuck, there are people outside! You’re trying to get Dispatch expose you, huh?” He laughed and sighed, basking in the sight of you and your concert outfit. Suddenly you became aware of what you have done to him. “No. Hey, this is fun. But Namjoon, we talked about this.” You tried to calm yourself but your voice is failing you, cracking because of how intense he looks at you. “Why did you go to the concert?” he asked. “I’m an ARMY and I missed seeing you perform.” He chuckled. “I- I mean all of you. Pft, not you alone! You know.. you and the boys, and..” you are shaking under his gaze. “Yeah, and why dressed like that? You know you’re attending soundcheck and it’s not crowded” he whispered. You swear his low, dark voice, would be your death. “Ligia’s fault.” “Hmm” he replied and walk closer to you. You tried to walk back, you really need to walk away. This is going to be messy and you made mental note of how this would ruin you and his career. You know better, you have to. But your body froze, your heart beats fast, your breath shallow in anticipation. The butterflies went swirling and your heart just keeps on failing you. You blame your hormones for being too wild tonight, for letting it take over the moment your eyes lock during soundcheck. The intense gaze while dancing, the memories of you having wild sex that winter. The urge, painful urge of longing for his touch. The feelings are all too overwhelming. He feels it, too. That is why he is here, risking everything just to see you. It’s not lust, it’s not just mere body craving. It’s the longing you both have been trying to contain. You both tried ignoring it when he went for closure. You know how much he strained himself not to touch you, kiss you. But tonight, all of the what if’s and risks are slowly fading. You crave for him. God knows how much you miss caressing his silky hair, kissing his soft velvety lips, playfully poking his dimples. Seems like he can read your mind, he sighed. “Y/N,” he whispered and touch his forehead to yours. “what are you doing to me?” “Joonie, I think…” you can’t finish your sentence. You just want to grab him and kiss him like it’s your last day on earth. “Baby, I want you back” he whispered, longing voice, almost begging. “I need you, Y/N. I need my yellow. When you left, I struggled a lot. I am good at hiding, but this time, seeing you here. I am willing to take the risk. Please, come back” he hugged you tight you can feel his heart beating fast. “Namjoon, we’ve talked about this. It’s a big risk for you and the whole group” you cannot deny the fact that you wanted him, too. You wanted him and willing to do whatever it takes, but what if you ruin his image? The group worked hard to where they are now. You can’t just take it away from them just because you are deeply in love with their leader. “We are all adults, we are humans. We are not perfect just as the society wants us to be. We need love, too” he whispered. You melted, like a butter your heart melts away. Who are you to deprive the love Namjoon deserves? Who are you to take his yellow away? You are coward, and you’re making him look pathetic to be begging for you. “Baby, I want to. You know how much I love you. But what if…” he didn’t let you finish. You admitted that you’re still in love with him through these years is enough for him. He slowly dip his face towards you, inch by inch you can clearly see him brightening, gaining his own beam of light. He loves you, you love him.

Whatever it takes, you throw all your worries away. You kissed him. You let your love and adoration to Kim Namjoon take over. The kiss was surprisingly slow, no rush despite the years of being apart. You take it all in, passion and pure ecstasy. His lips as soft as ever, his hands caress your back delicately as if afraid this is not real. It’s like your hand has a mind of its own, you caress his soft silver hair. His hands travels from your back to your waist and before you know it, he’s carrying you to the couch. You sit on his lap, aware of all that is happening inside his trousers and the heat building up between you. You need to feel him, you want him so bad you deepened the kiss. His tongue gently asking for permission, and you let him in. Soft moans and gasps are all you can hear in the silent living room. Before you could go any further, you break it. “Why?” he whispered. “You still have concert for tomorrow, Baby. And as much as I want you to spend the night here, I do. God, I really do. But I want to-“ “Let’s take things slow” he finished. He smiled sincerely and kiss you again, more passionate than ever. You nodded and he pulled you into a tight hug. “Oh how much I miss you, Y/N. I don’t want to let go.” He chuckled. “Me, too. So much that it hurts. But for now, you are RM. And as RM, you have to be at your 101% tomorrow. Today, you’ve been so rough and full of energy. I don’t want to have that energy all to myself tonight.” You teased. “But what about your outfit? I wanna ruin it, rip it off. Replace that choker with my hands” he whispered. “I love that. But not today” you teased back. He grunted but brings you into a tight hug. “So this means, you’re mine. Right?” he asked. “Silly! I am always yours, Kim Namjoon. Always.” You kissed him once more, savouring the feeling of being enveloped into the arms of your man once more. You were enjoying the comfiest hug when his phone buzzed. He answered but still holding you close. “Yes. I’m here at Y/N’s apartment. Shut up! No, I’m going back later. Let me fucking enjoy my girlfriend, Hoseok! STOP CALLING ME!” he laughed as he ended the call. “What was that?” you asked. “He keeps on asking if I’m coming home tonight or if I want to meet them at the stadium tomorrow instead” he chuckled. “Hoseok and his cuteness!” you giggled. “They missed you, you know. They saw you today, and they keep on bugging me to bring you there” he looked at you, asking for permission. “I missed them, too. But we’ll work it out. After what happened to Yoongi, I don’t know if I’m even welcome anymore,” you admitted. “Hey. Babe, it’s fine. When you left that night, we had discussions. They fully understand now. He even asked about you today. He saw you, too” he explained. “And…?” you bit your lips, bracing for a heart-break. “He wants to make up. So please come with me after the concert tomorrow?” he showed his dimples, acting cutely. “What if someone sees me?” you are worried and questions are starting to pile up again. “We got it covered, just like the old times. Besides, we’re adults. We’re all going to date one day, it just so happens that I got you first” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes on him, setting your head on his broad chest. “You’ve gotten big” you teased. “Wait till I show you. Now?” he whispered. “Not today” you laughed.

Your next concert outfit was the complete opposite of yesterday. You choose to wear BT21 pyjamas, complete with headband and other accessories. Since Ligia is wearing Koya, you chose to wear Chimmy. When Namjoon saw you at the soundcheck, he can’t stop laughing and even pointed it to Jimin, to which he almost rolls on the floor with too much laughing. It was fun seeing them doing the things they love, and seeing Namjoon so happy today. Others also noticed it by the amount of SNS updates of how he was looking so fine today and his dimples deeper than ever. To your surprise, they change some of the song line up for day 2. They added Outro: Her. You have mixed emotions over that song. The song he has written for you in under 20 minutes. You were on the phone then, and suddenly he interrupted you. “Wait, baby. I have something… stay on the line” The next thing you know, he was singing. His vocals that soothe you, and the sweet humming while he tries to put it all together. When it was complete, he let you hear it. “You’re the first to hear this demo. My HER” he said excitedly. “Also, your tear?” you asked sweetly. He chuckled, “yeah, my start and end”.

And now, hearing it after the breakup and now reconciliation, it hits you. All to different places but most importantly in your heart. He is so sincere and innocent and pure, and your heart swells with pride. Kim Namjoon, the philosopher, all yours. You look at him while he’s singing on the stage and it seems like he’s looking for someone- YOU. You were in barricade, so you are very near the stage. You screamed so loud even Ligia was startled. “KIM NAMJOON! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU!” And just like that, he saw you. He beamed and went to you, continue singing. To others, it may seem normal as the boys usually do that-even to the point of taking videos of themselves using ARMYs phone. But to you, it’s different, it is special. He sit, looking at you while singing. You stood there, calmly crying while Ligia’s looking at you then Namjoon then back to you, while her eyes wide open and mouth dropping. It hits her. She knew. But you don’t care anymore. You only cared about Namjoon. Your universe. When the song ended, they did their ending spiel. One by one they thank ARMY for two amazing nights and promising to see ARMYs again. They are set for world tour and you brace yourself for another rollercoaster ride.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” Ligia shouted after the concert ended. “What was what?” you pretended to know nothing. “The fuck! Tell me the truth! How’d you know Namjoon? First the coffee shop, then random texts, and now HER?” Ligia interrogated. “You have to stop reading fanfictions! Jeez!” you tried to shake it off by laughing at her reaction. “Oh don’t give me that shit, Y/N! Truth, now” she demanded. “Look, I am so tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?” you smiled reassuringly. “You were flirting with him on the stage! And..” she gasp. “What?” You look at where Ligia is looking. “Babe,” Namjoon called you, walking towards you. “What is happening. I’m going to pass out! You… he..” she can’t finish her sentence. “What in the world, Namjoon?” you scolded him in front of your frozen friend. “It’s taking too long. I had to steal you away from…?” Namjoon looked at Ligia. “L-Ligia” she answered like she’s under a spell. “That’s enough drooling over my man, Ligia” you jokingly warned. “What the fuck, you traitor! He’s my bias!” she said jokingly but internally screaming. “What about you two get in the car before dispatch comes here?” Namjoon whispered. You pulled Ligia with you, who is clearly still in shocked. You were both greeted by the security, no other BTS members. They must have been too tired or having after party. “Where to?” asked one bodyguard. “The restaurant near Han River please” Namjoon replied, enveloping you into tight hug and kissing you on your forehead. Ligia shriek by Namjoon’s gesture. “So.. you two? If you don’t mind me asking?” interrogated Ligia. The security answered, “All information about personal life of BTS members must be kept in private. Should there be breached with the member’s personal life, please know that you are held liable and may be called to address in the court.” “Holy shit. That strict huh?” Ligia replied. You and Namjoon chuckled, and the body guard cleared his throat. “You’re in this mess, girl. Sorry” you laughed. “I still have a lot of questions though” she insisted. You shook your head and smiled. “Shit, I should’ve went straight to my apartment!” she sighed. “I trust you. But by this time, Bighit might have your information. Shhh. So” you joked around. “For fucking real? I don’t want my visa to be revoked over this relationship.” She laughed. “We’re kidding. And yes, Y/N is my girlfriend” Namjoon answered. “Lucky you! I might start crying now” she replied, literally teary-eyed. “Hey, I’m not gonna take your bias-RM, away. Kim Namjoon is mine, RM is for all ARMY” you replied. He tightened his hug around you, “I think I’m the lucky one.” He kissed you in the forehead once again.

The dinner went well, with Ligia talking and asking about how cool being the biggest boy band right now, the groups plan for the future, and keeps praising them and thanking them for all the music and inspiration they give to everyone. Namjoon feeds her with details about the preparation from the concerts while subtly keeping his hands tightly wrapped around your waist. He doesn’t want to be rude but you know he wants to rest now. When Ligia run out of things to say, she finally retreats. “so, how am I going home now?” she chuckled. “We’ll drop you off your apartment.” Replied the bodyguard. “What about you, Y/N?” she asked. “Oh she’s coming with me.” Namjoon replied casually. Her eyes wide and smirked, “oh..” You shake your head with her reaction. “Seems like you both are ready to bed, wearing pyjamas at concerts.” Namjoon chuckled.

After dropping Ligia, you went to your apartment to get some stuff. You decided to visit the boys and celebrate with them before they go to intense rehearsals for their upcoming world tour. They’re going to the US for couple of months and you have decided to stay rather than go with them, besides work needs you here and you haven’t had time to file your leave. You’re okay with it. You have manage more than a year without seeing each other, what is months compared to it. At least now, you know he’s just literally around the corner when they’re back home.

The boys greeted you one by one. They are as welcoming as ever, and unlike the previous encounter at the restaurant, Yoongi came in hugging you and ruffling your hair. “Welcome home, Y/N” he said. “Oh Yoongi, I missed you. Sorry about-“ he didn’t let you finish. “Let’s forget about it. It’s done. We’ll start anew!” He pulled you in and you settled beside Namjoon as they set up their table for after party. “Oh shit, we have VLive schedule! We promised ARMY!” reminded Jin. “Oh okay, no worries. I’ll leave you guys alone. Will just roam around Namjoon’s room” you said goodbye to them and settle in his room, opening your Vlive as if you’re not in the same house with them. When they started the live feed, you noticed your bag near Namjoon. “Shit!!! ARMY eyes!” you immediately texted him informing about the bag. He stood up and clumsily took your bag away. Comments came rushing on VLive asking about the bag and Jin trying to find a perfect excuse. “I am fond of bags” Hoseok saved him. “You want to see what’s inside my bag? Maybe I’ll do that on the next VLive.” He added. Namjoon came running inside, giving you your bag. “I’m sorry” you lowered your gaze. “Hey, it’s all good, Baby. Just an excuse to kiss you, I’ve been dying to kiss you!” He kissed you passionately until you hear the boys shouting for Namjoon. He immediately ran out, hair dishevelled and Taehyung almost choke laughing. “Hyung, your hair. A mess! You must’ve-” the boys cut him out and he realized he almost spilled the tea. They all laughed and being silly talking about everything they love about ARMY, the concert, and how excited they are for the upcoming world tour. They promised to go on live during their breaks and will go home as soon as it’s over. “We know you will be waiting for us, we will come back as soon as possible!” Namjoon promised. “In an instant, yeah hyung?” teased Taehyung once more, sending Namjoon blushing, and his eyes nowhere to be found. “Gosh, these guys” you laughed.

After the VLive ended, you went out and joined them to their after-party. He couldn’t take his hands off of you, drawing circles on your lower back. They are already getting drunk- Hoseok turning into tomato red, Seokjin louder than ever, Yoongi being savage but turns out he is really funny, Jimin can’t barely open his eyes from too much laughing, Jungkook dozing off, Taehyung started to sing every song on their new album, and your man whispering how excited he is to be finally introducing you to his family. You almost choke at his plan. Meeting his family is a big deal especially in their culture. You can’t just bring someone without being sure of your future with her. “You’re probably just drunk. Come on, let’s go!” you tried to pull him up but his stronger. He pulled you on his lap and start kissing you. “So this is what were witnessing every day?” Taehyung remarked. “Hmm mmm” Namjoon replied, mouth still exploring yours. “AISSHHH! Get a room!” Yoongi shouted. “That’s hot!” remarked Hoseok. “Oh my god! Stop! I’m getting turned on!” joked Jimin. You laughed and tried to push Namjoon away but he deepened the kiss. “Show off! Just clean up after your mess. Not a single drop in the our common area!” Seokjin exclaimed. “Baby-stop” you managed to finally free yourself from Namjoon. He laughed and you can now clearly see the expressions of the members. They have their phone on both of you, probably taking photos and videos for blackmailing. “Stop it, you guys!” you said embarrassed. You covered your face and they all laughed. “We’re just happy you are finally here, Y/N. Really. Namjoon’s glowing again. And he’s writing tracks more than ever” Hoseok commented. “I’m never leaving. I’m here to stay” you reassured them. “You’re gonna live here? Great! But I’m serious about the rule- if you’re going to do it in all common areas, please clean up” Seokjin commented. “No! Just learn how to knock in my room and even my studio, especially you Jimin and Jungkook” Namjoon replied. They both nodded, and the night ended with more laughter and more beer.

You woke up with a very bad headache and it took you minutes to make up where you are. Too many KAWS figures, bonsai plants, paintings… “Namjoon?” you immediately called out his name but he’s nowhere to be found. You went out and the boys greeted you, the living room smells like pancake and the maknaes running around chasing after the last banana milk that Jimin is holding. “Where’s Joonie?” you asked Jin while helping him prepare the table for breakfast. “RKive I think” he replied. You went there and smile at the sight of your man. Brows furrowed, lips plumped, he’s clearly in the zone of making another track he didn’t even noticed you walked in. “Baby, do you want to have your breakfast here?” you politely asked, trying not to disturbed him. “Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you, babe. Good morning, sunshine!” he enveloped you into tight hug and kissed your forehead. “What are you up to?” you asked, noticing the emptied coffee cups on his desk. “Working on new tracks. There are so much to do, I don’t want to miss the ideas that came rushing this morning” he pulled you into his lap and wrapped your arms around your waist. “Breakfast first, please? I don’t want you get sick especially you’re going away” you pouted. “Hmm, what about dessert first?” he whispered. You furrowed your brows, not sure if you have the same meaning of dessert. “What dessert?” you innocently asked. He pointed at his groin, which you notice a big tent. “Oh, need help with that?” you replied playfully. He winked and in an instant you pulled yourself up from his lap, turned his chair around and dropped on your knees. “Fuck,” he chuckled while quickly letting his fleece shorts drop. You are still amaze by the sight of Namjoon’s huge dick despite having to ride it many times before. The years without him, you haven’t forgot this amazing view and you’d relive it a million times. But right here, right now, you can’t help but be thankful of following your heart rather than living in what if’s. “Are you just gonna stare at it?” he chuckled. “You’re a god.” You managed to reply before slowly running your tongue along his shaft. You could hear his deep moans. He grabbed your hair to have better view of how you beautifully you suck his dick. You take it all in, tasting his sweet-salty precum. You circled you tongue on his tip, gently running from side to side, trying your best to please your man. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so fucking hot!” he managed to say in between his gripped teeth. Jaw clenching, and clearly trying not to go deeper to hurt you, you gathered all the courage and deep swallowed him whole until you can feel it at the back of your throat. His eyes were wide and he tightened his grip on your head “Shit baby! You’ve been a practicing?” he has a tinge of annoyance in his voice. You’re taken back to that night when you first had sex, it was still new to you. “hmm” you replied, sending the vibrations to every inch of his thick manhood. You let go for a second to catch your breath. “No, sir. It was you, only you!” And that’s the truth. No matter how intense your longing for him or any human touch, you’ve never bed a guy even after your break up. You can’t think of sucking other dicks except Namjoon’s. “Such a good girl,” he managed to reply before you started sucking him again. Namjoon’s moan is all you can ever hear in his studio and you start bobbing your head faster, determined to make him cum in your mouth. “Shit baby. I’m cumming… fuck.. Y/N ahh” he filled your mouth with his warm, heavenly juice. You looked at him and swallowed, making sure no drip on the carpet. You suck him clean! “Fuck that is so freaking hot!” he exclaimed while guiding you back to his lap. “Your turn, baby” he whispered. You bit your lips and gently shook your head. “What? Why? I want to make you feel good.” He pleaded. “Tonight, my love. You have full access” you teased and bit his earlobe. He groaned and laughed, pulling you closer to him.

You went out after Jin keeps on knocking, telling the food is getting cold. They were all shocked and started laughing when you emerge. “What the hell are you laughing at?” Namjoon answered. “You realized your door was not closed yeah?” Hoseok exclaimed, chuckling. You buried your self in Namjoon’s back in embarrassment, prayed that a UFO is real and that they’ll suck you up any second now. “Shit sorry” chuckled Namjoon. “Pft, it’s alright. It’s not like Hoseok has been silent during sex, too” Taehyung respond. “Hoseok?” you looked at his innocent smile. “Shut up, Taehyung. It was a one-night stand!” he yelled back laughing. You shake your head over their mischievousness, somewhat it comforts you. They are adults, indeed. And they need skin ship, too, like everyone else. Sometimes, seeing them playfully talk about adult stuff and just being their own selves inside their house makes me feel like they have another persona. Being an idol must’ve been tiring, especially they started too young, and society has been very keen to each move they make. You settled down and joined them for breakfast, thinking about how lucky you are to be spending these days with them.

World tour preparation was tiring, even for you. You decided to go home that night but Namjoon asked you to come back. “I really wanted to make up to you, spend the days here before we go for the tour. Please, baby?” he whispered with his cute little puppy eyes. You can’t help but say yes to his cuteness. He giggled like a playful kid before calling the security to drive you up in your apartment and pick few clothes and stuff. On your way back, you decided to buy the boys some ice cream cake and banana milk. It’s a small gesture as a thank you gift for welcoming you again in their home and being so supportive of you and Namjoon. Jimin yelp in joy when he saw the ice cream cake, and Jungkook immediately take the banana milk, carefully labelling each for the members. Jin continues to impress you with his cooking skills, making you feel embarrass for not cooking deliciously as he does. “Aish, Y/N! You will learn through the years. Even if you and Namjoon get married, you will still be with us so I can teach you all the cooking skills!” he said proudly. You blushed at the thought of you and Namjoon and marriage, but it’s too early to tell. You’re still starting over, testing waters,, though you are quite sure you can see him in your future. You noticed him missing again, while the guys are gathered up for a movie marathon. And then suddenly, Vlive notified you that BTS is live. You opened the notification and you see him showing off his new collections in his studio. You smiled proudly as he talks about the future plans of BTS and the new tracks he’s working on. Somewhere though, in the middle of his VLive he showed a pair of baby shoes. He said it’s for his collection, accessory of some sort. The tiny brown baby shoes! “Wooopppss, someone’s planning for the future.” Laughed Taehyung. “Oh my, you’re pregnant Y/N????” asked Jimin. “NO! no no no no no! Oh my god no!” you said blushing. “You can tell us. Are we going to be fathers?” insisted Hoseok. “No….I don’t know. No!” you said laughing. It is impossible, you haven’t had sex yet. But of course, you can’t say that to them, a little privacy is precious especially living with them. You immediately sent him a message:

You: Kim Namjoon, are you out of your fucking mind? The boys are grilling me now asking if THEY ARE GOING TO BE FATHERS?! WTH does that even mean?

You saw him on Vlive reading something and he laughed. You are not sure if he’s reading vlive comments or he’s reading your message. Either way, you have forgiven him for such silliness, especially seeing him how he brightens up when he showed the baby shoes. One day, someday, Joonie you promised yourself. When the VLive ended, you stared at him trying to look mad. He laughed and scooped you from your sit, twirling you around before sitting and putting you on his lap. You saw Taehyung grinning as if thinking of mischievous things. “So, baby shoes huh?” he started. “Taehyung, stop. I am not pregnant” you laughed. “Well, not for now.” He replied making you shake your head. “When that time comes, we will let you know, Tae” Namjoon reassured, “But for now, Y/N are going to bed. Might as well you guys too. Long day ahead tomorrow. Meeting with Bang PDnim and the tour team.” He added. The guys all had mischievous smiles as they say their goodnights to you.

“Urgh today’s tiring, and I missed you!” he whined. “I was just out to get my stuff, you missed me already? What will happen to you when you’re in tour?” you asked. “Come with me?” His question came as a surprise. “Baby you know I can’t do that. People will start to wonder.”

“But what if Bighit hires you?” he insisted. “As what? Translator? You already know English. You’ve been doing it since then.” You laughed at the idea of being their translator. “No, no, baby. You’re needed. I’ll talk to Bang and-“you didn’t let him finish. You put one finger on his mouth to make him drop the topic. “Baby, I’m okay with my work now. And if you ask Bang PDnim, he might refuse. Code of conduct, all the policies..you know.” You sighed. “But you’re my girlfriend before they hire you, so technically we didn’t breach employee policies?” His being a smart-ass on this one, he has a point though. “I would love to stay by your side all the time, but it will look like a huge favour and special treatment especially I am your girlfriend” you insisted. “Just please try?” he kissed your forehead. He’s not going to drop this of until you sighed and nodded. He smiled sweetly and kissed you. It was a sweet, passionate kiss at first but the moment you hold unto his neck, you can feel the heat throughout your body. It’s been too long, way too long, that you’ve been wanting to feel him. You cannot hold on any longer so you deepened the kiss. You heard him let out a moan, a cue that he wants what you want as well. Tongues teasing, lip-biting. His hands roamed around your body, tightened his grip on your waist and gently laid you on the bed. “Lock the door!” you reminded him. He jumped as quickly, almost tripping which made you giggle at his clumsiness, and in less than 5 seconds he’s back on top of you. “Oh finally! All mine!” he whispered, almost ripping his shirt as he struggled to get off. You can feel your core getting hot, with every kiss and touch. He bites your lips teasingly, making you moan. You deepened the kiss getting as aggressive as he is. He found your sweet spot on your neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks as he goes down to the curves of your breast. He removes your dress in one swift motion, leaving you in your lace bra and panties. His gaze turning dark as he roams his eyes through your breast down to your core. “So fucking gorgeous! And all mine!” he whispered as he licks your cleavage making you tighten your grip on his hair. “and fucking taste good, too" he added. You prepared for this night, wearing a front-lock red brassiere that screams fuck me daddy. “Strip for me", he commanded. “Hmm, all bossy are we?” you teased. “Do it or you’re not gonna have any of this" he grinned while removing his boxers. His dick hard, reddish, and ready. You bit your lips and stood up. “Don’t make a move, don’t dare touch yourself “ you commanded. Two can play this game, you thought. He grinned and positioned himself on the bed frame. You slowly pull one strap, so slow he groaned. You are basically eye-fucking him, if there’s even a thing. To his surprise, you started slow dancing as you unlock your bra. Throwing it in front of him. You can hear him groaning and trying hard not to touch himself with your own little show. “Fuck, baby. I can’t wait to slide my cock on that” he growled. “hmmm I’d love that. Can’t wait to feel the friction here…” you touched your nipples and slowly caress your breast. You glide your hands on your stomach, “and here, too. Your hot mouth sucking, biting…” You slowly, soooo slowly, shake your hips to get out of your lace underwear, “your tongue, fingers, and your hard cock here" you were about to touch your self but he grabbed you, spinning you around, dropping you on the mattress. You moaned by his aggressiveness and eagerness. “Oh Baby, can’t wait to fuck you hard, you’ll be sore for days!” he whispered as he playfully bite your nipple. “oh shit, Joon!” you moaned. You can feel your core dripping. You needed some friction. You started grinding getting ready to take whatever Namjoon’s going to offer. “Look at you so needy" he suck your breast so hard you know it’ll leave marks and bruises the next day. You tried pulling him, scratching his porcelain skin. “Baby, pleasssee" you beg. “Say it. What do you want, Princess?” he grinned. “touch me! Fuck Namjoon. Or…or thighs! Friction. Now!” you

almost scream. He chuckled and pulled you, making you sit on one of his thigh. “You asked for thigh. Thigh is all you get" You take it, whatever that could satisfy your longing. You grind, not minding the mess and juice scattered on his precious well-tone thigh. “fuck, I can feel your wetness! You’re wild!” he chuckled. “shut up, suck me" you guided his head on your neck. You want him to leave marks all over your body, a mark that signs you’re his and he’s yours. And he did. You moaned by the intensity of each bite, but it’s not enough. “fuck me, baby. Hard" You’re almost begging. “thought you’d never ask" he replied.

He guides you and you slowly sink into his long, thick, hot rod. Your wetness helping you both settle, adjusting to each other. “shit your tight. And wet..god Y/N” he moaned. With each grunt and moan and sucking he does, it gives you more courage to be rough at him, too. You started circling your hips, and he let’s you do as you please. He tightens his grips into your waist and pumps you until you both find your rhythm. “baby, I'm cumming" you bite his shoulder to muffle your own moan. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me. You’re a hot mess and fuck I love you so much!” he continued going deeper and deeper until you reach your high. “Turn around, hold here" he guides your hands to the bed frame and lifts your butt, slapping it before sinking in real deep. “fuck Namjoon!” you yelped with the sudden sting, but it feels you nice you have to ask again. He circled his hips, hard and deep, one hand on your waist and the other in your boob. Too much sensation, overwhelming and with every thrust you can hear the bed frame creaking. You had to try not to scream with each thrust, so you suck on Namjoon's finger instead, biting it at the process but he didn’t care. He’s too focus riding you and making sure you hear his praises about you and moaning your name. “baby, where do you---" you didn’t let him finish his question, you tightened your walls around him making him moan louder “inside!” you replied. You reach your high at the same time, moaning each other’s name. He gently pressed and massage your navel as you come to stop, making you feel good as you both calm down. “Wow baby!” he chuckled as you both collapse to the bed. He flips you over and kissed your forehead, then your lips. As sweetly, passionately, and heavenly. “I love you, Y/N” he whispered on your lips. “I love you, my Namjoon" you replied, making him blush.

“I missed fucking you that hard,” he chuckled, as you both catch your breaths. “We have all the time, baby!” you responded, enveloped in his arms. “But… how are we going to explain the ripped sheets?” you added. “We might need to stock up linens here from now on,” he replied.

After cleaning up, he went out to look for fresh linens. Luckily, the guys are all asleep now, more like you prayed they’re really asleep now, realizing how hard and loud he made you cum. “Baby, please consider joining us in our tour? Even just this leg? I can’t bear a day without you..not again?” he whispered when you’re both settling to sleep. “I promise. I’ll take a vacation leave and if it’s approved, I’ll come. Don’t get your hopes up just yet. I’m not going to drop my work; I’ll just try being your translator for this leg.” He made a cute face, the one that his dimples are showing, eyes closed, and then getting shy right after. Your heart melts every time he does that and wonder how lucky you are to have him in your life. Yes, you are never going to let go. Not anymore. He deserves the world, he deserves someone who he can share the real Namjoon with, someone who will be his shoulder through ups and downs. Someone who can accept all the flaws and cons of dating someone like him. You are ready to fight for him, against all odds. You are ready to give your life to Kim Namjoon.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Author's note: Planned to end it here but I guess I'll be making Part Three soon 😂🤷‍♀️

#kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #RM #BTS #Namjoon #bts imagine #bts smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #thirsty fic #bts rm

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raidbossmadi · 3 years

Text

People Like Us : Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Night Out

Previous Chapter: here

The smell of cologne and weed alerted Sloane to Troy’s presence before the door of the technical could even open. The priest who had opened the door and led her there in the first place bowed and offered her a hand as she stepped up to the technical, these vehicles, aside from Tyreen’s personal technical were not designed with shorter people in mind. She thanked stars above that the ‘fancy’ clothing Iris had delivered to her room for this outing consisted of a mint green blouse and black slacks, she could only imagine making a fool of herself trying to get in and out of Troy’s technical in a skirt.

The God-king gave a short chuckle as she clambered into the seat next to him before he took another drag of the blunt in his hand. He offered it to her as he coughed into the furred collar of his vest.

Sloane took it looking at it rather quizzically, of course she knew Troy smoked, it was hard not to know. She however, had never seen the appeal, she’d read a lot about getting stoned but never could bring herself to do it.

“Go ahead, take a drag.”

“I uh, I’ve never done this before.” She admitted sheepishly.

“What? Really!? Not even to spice up that drab little shack in the woods.”

She shook her head.

“Alright, don’t worry I can teach you Slo, I’ve got plenty of experience.”

He mimed holding the joint and brought his fingers up to his lips and winked at her. She got the hint and took the joint to her lips.

“That’s it, breathe in.”

She did, the new taste and flash of heat as the smoke sucked into her mouth startled her but Troy held up a hand.

“No no, hold it, you gotta let it get in your lungs.”

After fighting the initial desire to spit out the smoke she held it in for as a few seconds longer than she thought she would manage before she doubled over herself coughing.

“See, you did fine? First hits a bit rough yeah, but you’re over that hurdle now. Wasn’t so bad was it?” He placed the joint in the ashtray and offered her a water bottle which she drank from greedily. “Like all things, it just takes practice.”

“Where are we going tonight? The Priest who fetched me didn’t mention anything in particular.” It was peculiar for her not to be briefed on where they were going and the fact that they were dressed down despite this being a date made her wonder what Troy had up his sleeve.

“A place where the sun does not shine. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight, it’ll all stay between us.”

“Oh poetic, but not what I asked.” She snorted as she took a cursory glance out the window. The cathedral was just a small speck on the horizon now and she realized this was the farthest she had been on Pandora. The Cathedrals' ever looming shadow over Temple town seemed so comforting compared to the harsh sunlight that shone over the barren desert.

“We have a settlement in the western desert, it’s picked up the name Scrapburg. It's where the rest of the engineers live when they’re not on assignment at the cathedral or deployed at an outpost. A bunch of my people live there actually. It’s not like Temple town, or the Cathedral, you’ll see. I think you’ll like the place.” Troy explained and patted her knee before awkwardly letting his hand rest on her thigh. She let it stay there, the willing contact with him appreciated.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent save for the sounds of the wheels as they bounced over the uneven surface of the desert. It wasn’t for lack of things to talk about, Sloane was buzzing with things she could say, but given this was a date she figured it better to save that for when they got to their destination. She had however kept her eyes on him for the rest of the drive not even noticing that they’d stopped until the door opened, their driver bowing to his gods before he spoke.

“Meet you here at the arranged pick up time, my liege?”

“That’s right, and don’t make us wait. You know how much of a pain in the ass it is to get through Cathedral gate at peak hours, even for us.”

Troy hooked his arm around Sloane’s waist, he led her away from the technical and through the gate. It was then that she got her first good look at the city proper. It was different from Temple Town in every conceivable way, where Temple Town was ever changing and movable Scrapburg immediately gave off the aura of permanence.

Instead of ramshackle buildings and tent camps,there were well built almost metropolitan buildings. They still had the typical Pandora flare but she had never expected something like this compared to the CoV capital. Solar panels were affixed to roofs and dust shields were installed on the balconies she could see.

The streets were covered by colored tapestries which she presumed were also to keep the sandstorm from buffeting the people who traveled. There were no cars, only carts pulled by large Skags and the occasional Motorbike. A bell tolled in the distance and she watched as people on the street stopped, others coming out onto their balconies and the sound rang through the city. Troy however did not stop instead speeding up his stride.

“Troy you’re gonna trip me, I can’t keep up!” Sloane protested.

“I was hoping we could avoid the attention, guess I should have known better than to send word. Even if that word was explicit, I did not want to be bothered tonight.” She could hear his fangs pressing against each other as he finished speaking, his agitation palpable in the air.

“Lord-Father Troy, how honored we are to be in your presence again.” A red cowled figure stepped out from the alley way, moving far too smoothly for a normal human.

It was only once the man was standing in front of them that his strange movements made sense. In the place of legs the heavily robed figure had four insectoid robotic limbs; two facing the front, two facing back. His right hand was also replaced with a robotic prosthetic that looked more like sleek black bone than the hulking form that hung off Troy.

“High Priest Deimos, I quite remember being very clear in our communication about tonight.” Troy glowered at the man.

“Forgive me for the intrusion Lord-Father. I was hoping I could escort you and the Verdant Lady to your residence.” Deimos said his fingers nervously bounced off each other as he spoke.

“We’re a bit busy for small talk.”

“It’s a ten minute walk my God-King, I won’t be burdensome for long. You can’t deny it’s been a fair while since we’ve spoken face to face, judging mother keeps you away from us.”

The more Sloane watched Deimos the more she realized he was more machine than man, a shift of his robe revealing a pump and tank system where his digestive system ought to be. She supposed that those who worshipped Troy would be more open to body modification but she couldn’t imagine casting away her organs for mechanical replacements.

“Fine.”

Deimos reached for Sloane’s hand only for Troy to swat it away with his prosthetic. The force behind the swipe reminded her just how easily he could crush someone with a flick of his wrist, he didn’t even need a weapon.

“And Sloane stays with me.”

“My apologies Lord-Father. I did not mean any offense.”

“Don’t get me wrong Deimos. I appreciate the hard work you all do, but Sloane and I are on a tight schedule. It was hard enough to convince Tyreen to let us have the night out.”

Troy and Deimos continued their back and forth of annoyance and platitudes as they walked Sloane tuned it out for the most part. She instead watched the street as they walked. She couldn’t recall ever seeing children in Temple Town but here she caught sight of more than one child being ushered to bow their heads like their parents before them as they walked past.

The filtered sunlight gave their procession a more somber feeling, especially as smoke from freshly lit censers wafted into the street. A bell tolled as they approached the steps she assumed belonged to the city hall. Troy released his grip on her hand and took a step forward, obscuring her slightly. Her gaze moved to the crowd that gathered at the foot of the steps.

She noted that those who had gathered seemed to be more calm and relaxed than the crowds that gathered to meet them in the great wandering city. That most of them seemed to have cybernetic parts which made sense, given Troy’s own disability it would make sense that his town would be made of people like him.

So wrapped up in taking in the foreign city’s spectacle she almost didn’t notice the men had stopped walking before she felt the tug of Troy’s grasp as she walked out of range.

“Uhh Pandora to Sloane, didn’t you hear me? We’re here.” Troy said an amused smirk pulled at the corner of his cheeks.

She looked up at the skyscraper that climbed greedily for the heaves. “Wow, sure is big.”

“Only the best for a god am I right?”

She snorted and nudged his arm with his shoulder. “Oh definitely. Totally not letting anyone think you're compensating eh.”

Troy turned red around the cheeks before he turned back to Deimos. “Well go on then you bucket of bolts get out here. And tell Phobos I’m expecting his report on my desk in the morning.”

The priest tapped his mechanical legs against the asphalt nervously before nodding emphatically. “By your will be done.” The priest skittered away back the way he had come before Troy’s temper could flare.

“Compensating, really Sloane? I could have any person in the CoV if I wanted, think I need to compensate to get that?” He was back to his jovial mood like someone had flipped a switch.

“I’m just saying it’s a big tower is all.”

“I like the view. Now, you coming in or shall we spend the night looking at my big tower?”

Sloane playfully rolled her eyes before she took his hand again.

The inside of the building was fairly standard for CoV buildings, the inverted vault symbol hung over the reception desk between two graffitied eyes. On the far wall a copy of Troy’s stained glass window from the Cathedral bathed the lobby in warm tones.

Troy did not acknowledge the receptionist simply strolling on by to the elevator. He placed his hand on a bioscanner located beneath the call button and a soft hum emitted from it before the ding of the lift's arrival cut through the otherwise silent lobby. The moment they stepped into the elevator and the doors clicked shut the atmosphere tangibly changed, Troy relaxing much the way he had been in the technical.

“I’m sorry about all that, I just wanted to get you here without being mobbed by followers who would want to meet you and ask fifty questions a piece. Tonight’s about relaxing and that’s what it’ll be from this moment on.” He smiled one of his warm and genuine smiles, unlike the smirk he used when dealing with followers this one went up to his eyes and softened his features. Sloane had come to relish seeing it in her few months among the twins.

They stepped out of the lift immediately into a fancy penthouse suite. Again it had all the design choices that made it read as Troy’s space, from the organized chaos to the books left turned over to hold their place.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tonight’s about you and I and nobody else so just tell me what you want.” He said hanging his vest over a chair as he went about the steps of removing his prothesthic. If they were going to have a cozy night in he needed to be comfortable.

“Yeah I’m starving, I haven’t eaten since Juniper brought me lunch.” She agreed, they hadn’t been gone from the cathedral more than a few hours yet it felt like ages ago now.

Troy turned to head into the kitchen when something caught Sloane’s eye. A black rectangular shaped box with a pair of controllers sat on top of it.

“Is that a Flaystation?” She asked her head tilted like a curious puppy as she spied it.

“Fuck yeah it is, we can play a game once we eat.” He reassured before he continued his quest to the kitchen.

Sloane made herself at home like Troy had suggested and plopped herself down on the plush sofa in front of the television. She was slightly surprised when a helper droid came out of a hole in the wall much like the ones back at the Cathedral. It pushed her shoes back over by the front door after she took them and returned shortly with a folded blanket on its head offering it to her.

She must have dozed off as the next thing she knew Troy was prodding her side. “Hey, hey! Dinner’s ready, sleepy head.”

She blinked awake and saw him grinning far too widely as he looked down at her curled up on the sofa. The same kind of look he gave when he had something up his sleeve in their game of bunkers and badasses, a genuine Troy smile.

Troy ran through his games library while they ate, pointing out the games he thought she would like. She was pleasantly surprised when he got it right, though they had spent months hanging out, doing their jobs, and sleeping in the same bed it had always felt like something they’d done out of obligation. When Troy had broken down the night of her coronation she had been caught off guard that she was so trusted and even now on an actual date with him it was only just clicking that he saw her for who she really was.

After a few hours of gaming, during which Sloane learned that Troy had taught himself to use a Flaystation controller with his feet which she found very impressive, the nature sire found herself yawning again. She leaned into Troy’s side, her head rested against the curve of his rib cage.

“It’s been a good night.” She sighed a content smile on her face.

“It has, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I did too.” He paused and took a deep breath before his hand came up and caught her under the chin, he gently tilted her head up to look him in the face.

“So, you think we can uh, make it official then. I know we’re in a weird situation where like we’ve been doing stuff couples do but it’s just been professional. I’ve really come to care for you these past months Sloane, more than I have anyone else. I would be honored and humbled to call you my girlfriend.”

Sloane’s face went red with blush as he spoke. “I would love to be your girlfriend Troy.”

She stretched up to meet his lips though she only stayed for a moment. As she pulled away she blinked in surprise as a thought registered with her.

“Holy fucking shit that was my first kiss.”

“Wait really?! Well…. it won’t be your last.”

She gave him a playful shove giggling as she did so. Her time away from Eden-4 had in general felt dreamlike and unreal if she thought about it too hard. Now however she found herself hoping that if truly was a dream that she would never wake up.

“So what changes at home? Is there anything I need to avoid doing around other people or something?”

Troy’s face steeled and his eyes darkened. There was an uncomfortably long pause between them before he spoke his voice had a hard edge, the kind that came with experience behind it and frightened her a bit.

“Tyreen cannot know. Not yet. Keep your head down, act like nothing changed unless we’re in private. I’ll handle it when the time comes.”

#Borderlands 3 #Troy Calypso #Tyreen Calypso #Borderlands #Sloane the Siren #People Like Us #My writing #My Hcs

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remingt0nleith · 4 years

Text

thorns | remington leith

try & find the hidden palaye royale song title in the fic! & additional A/N at the end.

A/N: hi wow long time no write :( SORRY! I have ideas and I try to write then my brain just doesn’t want to put the ideas on the word document. + y’know having depression doesn’t help things bleh... BUT I did write a full something finally (yay bare minimum author things!) This was requested! gonna keep trying to turn out requests & work on dark cherries also my birthday is on thursday and i’m turning 24 (wow im getting old help) & also the bastards comes out the day after so yay! lets chat about it when its out ok?

Request: Where Remington cheats on the reader and she finds out, but he does everything he can to get her back?

Thorns - A Remington Leith one-shot. || 1.9K words || under cut.

The catalyst for a ruined night came in a round of shots. Emerson poured the amber liquid into hot pink shot glasses that the boys had picked up days prior. Remington wasted no time in downing his, barely flinching at the bitter taste that now coated his tongue.

“Slow down there, cowboy”

Sebastian laughed before throwing his own shot back, placing a hand on Remington’s cheetah print covered shoulder.

“We can’t have our lead singer fucked up out of his mind, can we?”

The eldest brother chided playfully as he took the bottle from Emerson and poured more shots.

As the brothers drank and talked anxiously about their first show of a new tour, Remington’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, taking it out he suppressed an eye-roll at the message filling his screen;

My Love <3: HEY BABY JUST WANT TO WISH U LUCK TONIGHT YOU’LL KILL IT. LOVE U.

He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him lately, usually, he’d be thrilled at the love and adoration his girlfriend of three years was showing him. She was always cheering him on, listening to his music, and supporting his band in every way she could. Although she was unable to come to most shows due to a fast-paced work schedule she always made a point to let the band of brothers know they had her support. That should’ve been enough to keep Remington happy but recently he had become cold towards his girlfriend and as he put his phone away without responding all thoughts of her disappeared as well.

Remington headed backstage after the show still high from the performance. The adrenaline from the encouraging crowd and kick-ass concert his band delivered had Remington feeling happier than he had in months. Once in the dressing room, the boys quickly changed out of their sweaty stage attire into more relaxed outfits, and like clockwork, shots were once again being handed out.

Once everyone had a decent buzz going the boys and their crew headed out to a nearby nightclub to celebrate the success of the show. Remington realized halfway to the club that he had forgotten his phone in the dressing room, a fact that didn’t phase him, in fact he was happy to be rid of the constant ringing.

Once inside the packed club, Remington waved goodbye to his brothers and made his way to the bar. His buzz had diminished slightly in the car ride and that was a no go for Remington so he ordered a drink, which quickly became two, then three before he headed to the dance floor.

Packed in a sea of bodies the singer danced to the music, enjoying the happiness that came from the night’s events as well as the alcohol in his system. When a manicured hand grabbed him and pulled him close, he didn’t object, instead, he wrapped his arms around the dark-haired beauty.

The pair danced together to the techno music blaring overhead, strobe lights illuminating their faces, hands roaming freely over each other’s bodies before the woman leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss to Remington’s lips.

If there was a moment of panic, a spark of recognition somewhere in the sober part of his mind, Remington ignored it. Instead, he deepened the kiss with the gorgeous stranger, when the pair eventually pulled away from the kiss, they headed to the bar for more drinks.

When Sebastian came to let Remington know it was time to head to the hotel, the frontman wasted no time in asking this new girl if she’d like to go with him. Much to the dismay of the older (and wiser) brother, she said yes and everyone piled into the van and were chauffeured back to the hotel to continue the party.

Morning light filtered through the window a sign of a new day, but as Remington opened his eyes the gravity of last night hit him. He was alone in his hotel bed, the white sheets crumpled and covered in streaks of makeup (his or hers, he wasn’t sure). Flashbacks of last night filled his mind and all at once he realized the hickeys on his body were from a stranger, the realization filled him with shame and dread.

He found his phone which had been placed on his nightstand by one of his brothers or their touring manager (who always cleaned up after the boys’ wild nights) and on it were several unread texts and calls which came in at varying points of the evening.

[9:13 pm] My Love <3: It should be time for u boys to be on stage! I’ll be stalking twitter for updates and vids love u

[12:02 am] My Love <3: Watched a ton of vids that are already being posted! Get back to me when u get this my love so proud of u xx

[3:56 am] My Love <3: Guess your phone died or your out celebrating a great night. Call me when you see this or wake up. I love you.

[10:20 am] 5 missed calls

[10:27 am] *attached photo* REMINGTON.... FUCK YOU.

The photo on his phone screen displayed the girl from last night under the covers as a passed out Remington slept beside her. The caption didn’t say anything besides a winking emoji and she tagged him and his band’s account.

Instantly, he was dialing his girlfriend’s number, hands shaking as he paced around the spacious hotel room desperately waiting for an answer.

“Hello?”

Rose answered, soft voice hoarse from hours of crying.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry..”

Remington started to explain, words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could form them.

“Save it”

Rose snapped before continuing her voice harder and more assured now than it was just moments ago.

“I never thought you’d do this even as the band started to gain an audience, I told myself that I had nothing to worry about. All the pretty girls and boys didn’t matter because what we had was strong but it sucks being proven wrong huh?”

Remington’s sudden surge of tears prevented him from speaking as the pain in his chest grew with each word. The saddest part of it all was that she was right and that ripped him up inside.

“Rose I-”

he whispered, voice barely audible even to himself.

Instead of an answer he was left hearing the sound of the call disconnecting.

The tour passed by in a daze for Remington and while his brothers desperately wanted him to be more present, they understood. He’d get on stage and sing, forgetting about the pain in his heart for that hour or so, as soon as the curtain closed the ache in his chest was back, a cruel reminder to the life-changing mistake he’d made.

Rose had cut off all contact with her now ex-boyfriend instead choosing to go through Emerson to inform him she was moving out of their shared apartment in LA.

Each night in his hotel bed, memories of the past three years filtered through his brain until he exhaustingly cried himself to sleep.

Remington used Emerson’s phone to send a series of texts to Rose to apologize, to accept full responsibility but the only reply he received was instructions to give Emerson his phone back and to leave her alone.

Just as quickly as the tour started it was now coming to a close a few months later. The boys were back in LA for a sold-out show in typical Los Angeles fashion. Remington never stopped trying to get ahold of Rose -- he sent flowers to her new address, letters where he begged for her back, apologizing and pleading for her forgiveness yet he was never awarded a reply. He didn’t blame her at all but that didn’t mean the pain hurt any less, he’d do anything for a second chance.

Shots of vodka were taken, cheers and high fives were given and the boys hit the stage. Remington gazed out into the crowd, a see of silhouettes behind bright stage lights. After a few songs, Remington sat down at the end of the stage, dark boots quietly thumping against the side.

“Y’know fans like to think we’re perfect”

he stated which earned a chorus of “I love you’s” as well as cheers from the crowd.

He smiled before continuing,

“As much as I love to hear it, it’s not true and sometimes we royally fuck up. I fucked up and these past few months have been hell so I wrote this song.”

The crowd applauded as they watched their favorite singer head to the piano, the spotlight shining on him as he sat down.

“This song is called Thorns,”

Remington began to play a hauntingly slow ballad about losing the love of your life and how apart of you is lost as well.

The pain in my heart is defeating me

Cracking me open for all to see

I’m numb to life, deep inside

Needing you to realize, you’re the better part of me

An illusion of love is what I fear

Taking each step is now unclear

A rose garden in my dreams,

You leaving now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging for my rose to please believe

I made a mistake that I can see

Yet this pain without you is deafening

My heart of thorns cuts me deep

Paralyzing me and making me weak

Please my rose I beg you, have sympathy.

The rose garden in my dreams,

But you’re leaving right now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging my rose to please believe

I love you Rose it’s all I know, I’m sorry for all my sorrow

By the time the song ended, Remington had tears blurring his vision. He was so wrapped up in playing the song he didn’t realize he had started to cry but to the audience that just made it so much more beautiful.

After the show, Remington hurried off the stage in order to collect his emotions but in the dressing room sat Rose. Her blonde hair was curled and she wore a red dress and in a true movie moment a dozen roses sat in her lap.

“Rem that song…”

she started but before she could finish, Remington ran over and threw his arms around her, hugging her to make sure she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m so sorry”

he whispered once she hugged back.

“The flowers were from Seb”

Rose mumbled, green eyes flicking down to them after their hug. Sebastian must have ordered them because he knew what Remington was planning. That was his older brother alright, always playing the papa bear role.

The singer’s mind was racing a mile a minute, he had a million questions but all he could do was apologize.

Rose shushed him with a chaste kiss before speaking,

“By no means have I forgiven you completely. That song however beautiful doesn’t make everything go away but I’m willing to work on us”

Remington nodded, happy she was here and willing to give their relationship another shot.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,”

he whispered, wrapping her in another hug.

They knew it would be a long road to get back to where they were before but Remington was happy he had his Rose back in his life.

A/N: omg that song was not that good I came up with it on my own though and I’m not a lyricist lol hope u enjoyed xx

#remington leith fic #remington leith imagine #remington leith #request #palaye royale fic #palaye royale imagine

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geekxgoddess85 · 4 years

Text

Very Bad Things

~PROLOGUE~ How It Began

“Are you sure a-about this Armin?”

“Of course, I’m sure. You trust me, right?”

Eren bit his lip, giving his childhood best friend a worried look. The two were currently on summer break from Trost University, going into their senior year. For Eren, junior year was a nightmare. If he was to be honest with himself, he had been slacking for the past two years so, when junior year came, he had to buckle down and keep his nose in the books in order to be able to pass the necessary courses to complete his credits. For college, staying an extra year on the count of not passing a course or lack of credits was more normal than one would think. But for Eren, he wanted to make sure he graduated the same time his friends did.

It was one week into summer break and Eren still felt the stress from taking his finals. It was the reason Armin was in his bedroom at the moment, making an account on—on behalf of Eren— on an adult live cam site called Strip ‘N Chat. Eren didn’t know how to feel about it. It was one thing to watch porn videos, but to actually interact with a person via webcam was kind of unnerving. Armin mentioned it was a great way to let off steam and when his best friend brought the idea to him, Eren was a bit…perturbed about it all. It was ironic, though. During their entire lives, Armin had been the conservative, stick-in-the-mud prude who used to balk at the very thought of sex, while Eren was the extroverted, loudmouth rebel. Three years into their college career and look at how the tables turned. Eren was still…well…Eren, but he found himself as the prude. The crazy thing was, Armin lost his virginity their freshman year during a frat party to Jean, of all people, while Eren was still a virgin. After his little tryst with Jean (and a couple of times afterwards), Armin began to blossom and open up in all ways, including sexual. He was openly gay and sexually active. And fucking proud of it all too.

The shit was crazy.

“Okay. Done.” Armin smiled and sat back in his chair. “You’re all signed up and I got ya’ logged in. Here’s your username and password.” He grabbed Eren’s sketch pad and began writing the information down. “Username is SlickxJagger and your password is Sk8terB0i30.”

Eren raised his eyes. “Slick…x…Jagger?”

“Yeah, corny, but cool, huh?”

“No!” He argued. “I sound like a washed up 90’s porn star!”

Armin shrugged and blinked his eyes innocently. “It’s a porn site, Eren. Everyone’s username sounds like a washed up 90’s porn star. Now, you’re all set! I loaded up that pic of you at Krista’s pool party.”

Eren sighed. He knew what picture Armin was speaking of. He posted it on his Instagram and had gotten a ton of likes. He didn’t think it was anything special. It was just him, with his red and white swim trunks on, holding up the hem of his shirt with his teeth, exposing his abs and various fake tattoos. He had grown his hair out—almost to his shoulders—and was a damp mess of a bird’s nest. Because of that and his long bangs, his face was pretty much hidden, though the sun light had shone just right on his sea green eyes, which caused them to sparkle and almost glow. “What do I do now?” He blinked owlishly.

Sitting forward, Armin clapped his hands onto the top of his knees. “Fill in your profile and filter out what you’re looking for. Then you can pick which Cam Model you like and subscribe to them. Every time they go live or post a pic or video, you’ll get a notification. Remember, some of that shit, they charge you tokens. It’s usually the more risqué stuff. The amount is based on their own discretion. And if you want one-on-one’s, you definitely have to pay out the ass with tokens.”

Biting his lip, Eren looked at his profile. He filled in the basic information about his age, height, and build, and his likes and dislikes. He answered everything to the best of his ability and honestly. The only thing he lied about was his name. Instead of his real name, he decided to use ‘Jagger’ as being his first name. He didn’t provide a last name. His preferences came next. He started clicking the various boxes. “Um….okay, I like brunettes. Height doesn’t really matter to me. A muscular body would be nice. Don’t care about ethnicity…..” He continued to click away, with Armin helping him on certain things. “Is that all? Did I miss anything?”

“Yes, you sure did,” Armin replied, with a devilish grin. “And I know exactly which to pick out of Twink or Daddy. Click on Daddy.”

Eren winced. “Ew!”

Rolling his eyes, Armin sighed. “Not that kind of Daddy, Eren. Duh! Daddy kink.” He watched his buddy blink cluelessly at him. “I can’t believe you don’t know what that is. Even I know, dude. It’s when a younger male twink is enticed by an older male ‘Zaddy’. That’s the gist of it. If ya’ wanna know more, google it!” Standing, Armin slapped his hands down on Eren’s shoulders, before wrapping his arms around Eren’s neck, hugging him from behind. “I gotta go. Mikasa asked me to fill in for her at the Café. Did you talk to Annie about your schedule?”

Eren raised his own arms up and behind him, awkwardly wrapping them around Armin’s waist…or trying to as much as he could while sitting in his red and black gamer chair. “Yeah. I have the same schedule as you now so that I can catch a ride with you.”

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Armin kissed the top of Eren’s head, before taking his leave.

Eren gave his buddy a lazy wave goodbye with a lopsided grin. When his bedroom door closed, his smile died down and was followed by a heavy sigh. He still didn’t know about this whole cam thing. But he was always up to trying new things. And if Armin liked it, then maybe it couldn’t be that bad.

Over the next hour, he had gone through dozens of pages of so-called Daddies. That process was a little more frustrating that what it should have been. Eren was picky when it came to who and what he found attractive. Not that it was a thing with him anyway, but he didn’t pick based on looks. He couldn’t because all models were required to wear masks for anonymity sake. He thought that was kind of neat. It gave the models a sexy, mysterious look to them. He had to go off based on their profiles and preferences. He had to weed out a lot of douche-bags but narrowed it down to two: The Captain and Dr. Pain. He was kind of skeptical about Dr. Pain. He looked to be into BDSM and while Eren didn’t have anything against it, he had never done anything like that. But Dr. Pain was 6”2, with impeccable styled blonde hair and chiseled features from what he could tell through the mask. They had a few of the same likes and dislikes. Overall, the guy sounded pretty normal, despite liking ‘a little pain with his sex’ (his own words). The Captain…well…there was something about him. He was a shorty, standing only at 5”3. Eren was a full five inches taller than he was. Not that it mattered. He didn’t think their was a height requirement to being a Daddy, but when he googled it, the norm was the Daddy was always taller and bigger than the Twink. They shared a lot of the same likes and dislikes, but what struck a chord in Eren’s heart was The Captain’s eyes. Even through his white, red, and black mask, Eren could see a pair of piercing blue-gray eyes. Almost a light cobalt. They pulled him in as if he were in a whirlpool, being sucked into the abyss.

‘What the hell?’

Blinking back into reality, Eren shook his head and walked to the kitchen. His stomach was roaring at him angrily to feed it. “Mikasa, are you hungry?” He called out to silence. Armin was gone to work, and it seemed like Mikasa had left to go some place too. So, he was alone.

Sighing, he kicked his door closed with his toes and plopped down on his bed. A sandwich and soda sounded real good right now and that’s exactly what he was chowing down.

It was a couple of minutes before ten when a notification sounded out. He thought it was his phone, but when he checked it, he saw that it wasn’t, he furrowed his brows. “Hm—oh! My laptop!” Scrambling off the bed, Eren rushed to the laptop and pressed on the ‘enter’ key to wake his system up. Checking his email, he saw one new message and blinked slowly. “It’s from Strip N Chat.” Biting his lip, he cautiously opened up the notif; reading every single letter that made up all the words.

“The Captain is now online.”

Swallowing hard, he clicked the link that took him straight to The Captain’s page. It was a simple page. There was a large blank box in the middle of the screen that said ‘The Captain’s Quarters’. The chat was at the bottom. There his stans already there talking to each other, waiting for The Captain to show.

And when he made his entrance, it was pandemonium.

“Hello Darlings, it’s your Captain speaking. Did you miss me?" Leaning forward, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers, he winked on cobalt blue eye. "Have I got a story for my horny little Ship Mates tonight.”

Eren watched a grin spread across his face, which he couldn’t see much of it. Like all the models on the site, The Captain wore some kind of masquerade looking mask that covered majority of his face. Only his eyes, hair, and his lips and chin were seen, as far as his face goes. His body…well that was another story.

“Wow….” Eren whispered, mesmerized by the guy’s body. His shoulders were broad, and his arms were toned. And as bright as day, he sported a winged tattoo on his chest, with what looked to be a matching one on his left hip. “That’s so hot,” he whispered. Eren had a thing for tattoos. He wanted some of his own but was too afraid of needles to get any. But fucking A if this guy didn’t look hot wearing his.

“…but first, looks like we got some virgins in the house.” He smirked; a pink tongue coming out to wet his bottom and top lips. “Come on.” His voice deepened, dropping one octave. “I don’t bite.....unless you beg me for it.”

Those very words and the way he said them sent a shiver down his spine and an electric shock to his dick.

“Crew, say hello to our newest Shipmates RainMan95, PoisonedL0v3r, and…SlickxJagger. Mmmm….hey Slick….just how slick is that tight, little hole of yours?”

“Fuck. Me.” Eren’s eyes went blind. He was caught. Hook, line, and sinker or whatever the fuck it was called. The guy had him. Him and his aching dick that was standing on end, making a tent in his sweatpants.

“Speaking of holes mmmm, wait until you hear this one. It about a cute, little Twink with a bubble butt that I ate. All. Fucking. Night. Long. When I was done with him he had a…Slick…hole too, Jagger.” Captain grinned widely. “Wanna hear the story, Crew?” He lowered his voice and his tone. Sitting back in his chair, he reached into his pants and pulled out his enormous, leaking cock and began to stroke it lazily. “Get out your dicks, my lovely little perverts. Come stroke with me down memory lane.”

‘Oh no…’

Eren was fucking hooked.

#VBT #Very Bad Things #Levi #Levi Ackerman #Levixeren #Levi x Eren #Ereri #Riren #Ereri Snk #Levi x Eren Fan #Fan Fiction #Fan Fic #Fanfiction #snk fanfiction #AOT Fanfiction

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justaniche · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever...been blatantly asked to have sex

So here it is, the first chapter of my NHIE rewrite posted on tumblr thank you @cupcakesandtv for letting me know that I actually could post this. I will start working on chapter 2 and will post it as soon as I can!

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Paxton Hall-Yoshida: resident heartthrob, varsity swim team captain, and all-around nice and pretty chill guy. That’s what his fellow students at Sherman Oaks High think when they see him at least, but I mean come on, he’s definitely double-take worthy and that’s Paxton’s image, unbothered, athletic, and generally unproblematic. That's the issue with images, though, they solemnly capture the full picture.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” the exasperated groan heavy in Paxton’s voice, “they’re really gonna make me retake history?” The question was more for himself than, his best friend, Trent but a response came nonetheless.

“What?” The paper Paxton’s schedule was printed on was snatched out of his hands and Trent swiftly skimmed the page as the dots connected in his head, “Oh, the class from last year, I’m sorry bro that sucks.” He said as he casually handed the page back.

It’s the first day of the new school year at Sherman Oaks High School and the students are settling back into the swing of things. As per usual at this school, the student schedules are emailed to them weeks before school actually starts, but Paxton decided to not look at his until he got to school and that was coming back, rather quickly, to bite him in the ass. He and Trent were huddled at his locker catching up on the last 48 hours since they’ve spoken before heading to their, now apparently separate, classes.

These boys have never been the most studious; you could possibly call Trent willfully oblivious, the former often just letting everything fall as they may, insisting, to the dismay of Paxton, that things would be ‘fine’. With the buzz of anxiety that came with knowing he had to retake a class that was now full of people younger than him fading, Paxton was finally alert enough to realize that the formerly noisy hallways had fallen damn near silent.

“Shit dude, we’re late,” Paxton rolled his eyes. Trent laughed, grabbing his bag and shutting Paxton’s locker.

“Have fun with the youngins” Trent was already walking away with a wink before Paxton could retort back. Well, there goes the plan of attempting to sneak in relatively unseen. Taking a deep breath Paxton shifted into his more commonly known school persona, cool, calm, and drool-worthy while he made his way to class. As Paxton approached the door and heard the teacher beginning his lecture, he didn’t leave time for contemplating his regrettable circumstances. Paxton stepped through the door and made his way to the first seat in sight which was, being on par with the way the day was going, in the front row. Paxton had just gotten settled in his seat and faced the teacher when “Damn” sounded behind him. Paxton, along with the rest of the class, turned to directly behind him to face the girl residing in the seat. No one had time to comment as the teacher added to her remark and tacked it onto his lesson.

“-genocide is not 100. And systemic racism is not litty. As we travel through all of humanity’s most horrific atrocities, I want you to feel shooketh. Thank you. Trust'' as if the intro could not get worse, the teacher dabbed and then proceeded to stumble into the trash can placed beside his desk. Paxton slouched into his seat with a sharp breath intake and a slight cringe, he knew it was going to be a very long year.

~~~

With class finally over, students emptied the room and Paxton followed but stopped smoothly in the middle of the hallway; dropping his bag to tie his shoe and then continued to class.

~~~

The day droned by, only being briefly punctuated with excitement from Trent and persistent stares. When the bell rang signaling the end of the school day athletes and club kids alike made their way to their respective areas. Paxton found his way to the school pool for a much-needed outlet for his energy. Swimming, for Paxton, was like breathing. It came naturally and was a reprieve from everyday stresses. People stared yes, but it was not because of his objective attractiveness and more so because of his fluidity inside the water. In the water, Paxton moved one with it. It seemed as though the water acted as his guide instead of pushing against him. This coupled with the fact that the pool was where Paxton had felt the most comfortable and the most accepted. Yes, he was competing when he swam but it was never a chore; honestly, Paxton would spend all day, every day in the water if he could.

Practice ended, to much of the swimmers’ dismay, and soon after they were emptying the school into the night air, “Later man '' Paxton called to one of his teammates before bounding down the steps. He cut right to his car and reveled in the thought of finally getting home and back into the bed he’d been daydreaming about from the moment he left it, when a voice, calling his name from behind, stopped him in his tracks.

He pivoted on his toes to face, the girl from his history class? Confusion flooded his body as the girl, now introduced as Devi Vishwakumar, began to ramble and Paxton’s face contorted as his puzzlement started to show. Devi could see that Paxton was not connecting who she was to anyone he’d seen and sighed slightly before begrudgingly admitting,

“I was also paralyzed last year?”

Realization fell onto Paxton’s face but it was gone as soon as it appeared. Devi didn’t miss a beat before continuing,

“Oh, okay, great. You are familiar with that.” She took a breath, “So here’s the thing. I’m into you.” She scanned Paxton’s face for any indication that her words affected him, she did not find one and seemingly panicked because she recommenced, stating “Like, I could name every class you’ve had for the last two years.”

Paxton’s face smoothed, two beats passed, and he only blinked. Devi spat out, “But I won’t do that. And I know you’d never be my boyfriend, because you’re you and I’m me,” Paxton rocked on his feet. “-but I was wondering if you would ever consider…” she swallowed and stuttered through her embarrassment “h--having sex with me?”

Several moments of tense silence followed and Devi broke, the words tumbling from her mouth like a busted pipe. “Oh, my God. I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just did that.” She was turned around, fleeing, at this point potentially to go hide in her room, never to come out again when Paxton spoke up.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“What?” Devi could not believe her ears

“Just sex, right?” Paxton asked

“Just sex,” Devi confirmed

“I’m down, but I can’t tonight” Paxton had a date, with his bed, and also a movie with Rebecca not that he’d ever tell Devi that.

“Wow, okay!” The shock in Devi’s voice couldn’t be hidden if she tried, and she did not even attempt to. “Twist. This is surprising. Looking forward to it. Will circle back about it.” The shock melded into something akin to excitement and that bled from her every word. She stuck out her hand, Paxton looked down at it before hesitantly taking it into his own, she gave him one enthusiastic shake. Her smile was blinding, and Paxton stopped his own upturning lips at the strangeness of the entire interaction. He turned and walked away without looking back. When Paxton made it to the school lot it was practically empty, save for a few other cars, none of which were near his own. He climbed into his truck and tossed his bag into the passenger side, at last, letting himself think about what just happened. His mind replayed the scene in his head and he gave a little laugh, this would not be the first time someone wanted to have sex with him but it was the first that someone had been as bare with it plus the first time someone let their reaction show at his answer. He shook his head because it was not a big deal but when he pulled out of the parking lot and set off on the road home, Paxton could not shake the feeling that was telling that this was going to be interesting.

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polygamyff · 4 years

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58. Part 4

Feeling a little hand slap my arm but I am just watching intently at the interaction between the Davenport family and to see the brother’s of Marquis stood with Maurice, but the one brother that is missing, I mean we know why but these old men look so excited to be out. Marquis looks the oldest out of them all, probably the most stressed. I mean rich men do be living long with all the surgery and shit but this is interesting to see, Maurice did say that Marquis loves to put on a good show “Robyn” someone said my name “Robyn” looking at Ally “I think they want you to go” Ally said, “on my own?” I retorted, they want me to go alone “Robyn, you know sometimes when Maurice can’t do or be at a place you will be the next to do it, you’re his partner so yes. It will be ok; we will have your mother follow along with Reign. They want you alone” Ally explained “but why not Reign with me?” I don’t understand “she said why not Reign?” Ally asked on my behalf “they just want you alone before the child, come on. Tight schedule” this is not the time to have a mental breakdown, I mean what the hell do I do or even stand like “good look baby” my mom said while walking behind the lady “you look beautiful Robyn, do not worry” Adam rushed to my side “you are going to be the talk of the blogs, I promise you. Go and be the princess you are!” Adam shouted waving me off, I am sweating, and I can feel it. I am literally being thrown to the hounds on my own, everyone is looking at me “Robyn Willis!” the lady shouted, why did she have to do this and announce it is so loudly. Taking in a deep breath, I am blushing, this is not good. Stepping onto the red carpet, I am not even sure where I stand at all “just here” the production runner came to me, clasping my hands together in front of me as I turned to the cameras. This is not me at all, I need to not squint my eyes, but I am probably looking awful “oh my god! You are beautiful, look over here!” someone shouted, I laughed because it was funny to hear “over here, just move to the side. Show off the legs!” I feel so ashamed right now as I moved to the side “and look at us! Just here!” I don’t know who is even saying this to me, the flashes are blinding me. Licking my lips as I laughed again “why don’t your fiancé stand you! Where is he?” someone shouted, I turned back around “you know more then me” I said, I don’t know where he even is “Robbie” just about hearing my mother say, looking over at her. I cooed out at my daughter, I am shocked she is openly wanting to walk with the people stood there just blinding with flashes “come on baby” I said laughing, she is holding my mom’ hand as she walked over to me.

My mother soon ran off, she didn’t want to be in this at all “you going to pose for them” I said stepping back from Reign, she is not bothered at all but was watching me walk off “Reign!” someone shouted which caught her attention as she moved around “hello, awwww” Reign started waving at them, she is not bothered at all my daughter. Watching her pace around and then ran at me “aww ok, come here” picking her up “you gone shy now” Reign hid her face on my shoulder, I love her so much. Wrapping my arms around her, my heart literally skipped a beat seeing Maurice. He is here, he left me with this. He is just giving me big dick energy today, but he doesn’t need to leave me like this “you ok? I thought I would let you be the main attraction, who am I” trying to not smile at his stupid face because he ditched my ass here “move to the middle! Can we just have the new faces of the Davenport company” Maurice moved back away from me as I joined him, standing next to Maurice as he placed his arm around me. Reign moved her head from my shoulder finally “beautiful family!” looking at Maurice, he eventually looked at me “I think they mean me” he said, rolling my eyes at him “big headed” he pecked my lips “come here, you let me hold you” Maurice said to Reign, she went to Maurice straight away but he placed her down to stand “it’s ok, papa is here” he crouched down with her, Reign pointed at Marquis. I knew Marquis would be here for his little angel, Reign clapped her hands as she walked towards him.

I would leave Reign with Marquis but he cannot control her at all so I will leave her with my mother “we need you both to be walking together and being together now” Maurice’ publicist said “mother, please come to me if she is not playing ball and Jay, you stay with my mom ok. I don’t need it, I want my daughter and my mom to be ok” Jay nodded his head “you the boss” he laughed “thank you, mom just stay close to us. I will watch on” my mom smiled at me “I am ok, I have Jay. He will be make sure I will be fine” nodding my head as I walked off “you done fussing now?” Maurice said “I am not done fussing, but I just needed my daughter and my mom to be ok” Maurice held my hand “Maurice, a few words with BET” Lorraine said, I guess I am just going to be the side person just to look good I guess “Maurice, thank you for speaking to us. This day is an iconic day for you, for the company and for the face of the company. You have taken us to new heights, you have attracted attention for all young black business men. To be a billionaire, not in the fact you own Davenport hotels but because you have made your own business ventures, do you feel proud of how far you come, because out there the is hundreds or even thousands of men that are going through trauma that you did, there is no hiding the fact you had drugs so what do you say to that” that is a lengthy question “I would say that you can do it, you can come out of things. You can do it, there is people out there with no good support system and even with that you need to find it within yourself to want to do good. I have been against a lot of bad to get to this point, I think what I had to do is get rid of the bad and bring in the good. Keep your circle small too, I wouldn’t honestly be here if it weren’t for my team. I am just the face but the people behind me, they are the ones that have took my ideas and made it a reality, but I want to say to every person out there. You can do it, you probably think I am some rich man saying this but you can do it and you can come through this, not even money can bring you health and I was close to death” staring at Maurice’ side profile, he answered that so well I am so proud of him.

I am not sure if Maurice is bored of answering shit because I am, I hope the New York times is the last one because I am just stood here bored as shit “I think Robyn can answer that” I heard my name and I didn’t even hear what they said, this is not good “yes?” I said looking at Maurice “he asked about the club deal and Apartment complex. How do you feel to be in such a prestigious family” Maurice said as he moved to the side a little “it’s good, and I am ready to take on the clubs along side Jay” I don’t know these things “she is new to this” Maurice said laughing “you’re a doctor, do you think this will change you now? Did you expect this?” the interviewer asked “I am not sure but I love my job and I love saving lives, I think it’s overwhelming but Maurice is a great support for me and the only way is up for us both, we work together as a team” looking at Maurice “yeah, she’s been the rock I needed. And I think you will see her name more and more; she is a great mother and a wife. And I know it’s a big title to put on us but with Robyn here, she is going to make sure we can give the people what they want” smiling at Maurice as he smiled at me “it’s been a pleasure to speak to you both, thank you” the interviewer said “thank you” Maurice walked off with me “shall we go inside finally” Ally said while walking at the side of Maurice.

I expected the reception area to be filled but apparently everyone is already sitting down and ready, I mean that is a bad for me because I don’t want to walk in with all eyes on me I suppose. Maurice is busy talking to people so I will slip away and see to my mother, I laughed seeing Jay holding Reign. I bet my mother could not deal with holding her “oh my princess, you happy to see mommy. Come here” taking Reign from Jay, I can’t just leave my daughter there clapping in excitement “mama” she hugged my neck “awww, I love you. What a nightmare, Maurice literally put me on the spot with answering a question” I am glad Reign is not acting out like I thought, she is pretty much a little taken a back by it all but is doing well, rubbing her back “I am back” look at my auntie, she done rushed back “did you get a speeding ticket?” I asked, she must have because that was too quick “oh girl, no. But I am here, they tried to stop me at the door, and I said do you know who I am” laughing at my auntie “Robyn, hey. Maurice is going in, but he asked me to tell you to take your seat” Ally said, “and where is that?” I asked her “good question, I will ask the runner. I will be back, Maurice had to go, he said he was sorry” nodding my head as Ally ran off “nigga is busy ain’t he” Jay said “he is, he’s a little everywhere, I don’t want to add to his issue so I am just taking it as it is. He does remember me I guess” Jay nodded his head “my niece better show out! Show these who is queen, does my hair look ok?” rolling my eyes at my auntie.

I suppose come to think of it, Maurice should have walked in with me, but he rushed off and I am not going to get into it “I found your seats, I need to go and see to Maurice but. She will take you” Ally ran off “I wish I could tell her that her hair is a mess” Jay said which made me laugh “stop it, she is so stressed, I feel for her” he is so stupid “well shall we” Jay said laughing to himself, he is funny. I feel like we are the last ones to go inside, this just gives me birthday vibes and I hate that. His birthday was so stressful, but I wasn’t as late as this, let me just suck it up and walk “mmmm” Reign pointed at the ground “you want to walk baby? That is ok, you can walk” putting Reign down before standing straight holding Reign’ hand “mind out Jay!” someone said and then seeing it’s Rich but then he creates drama like people are looking now as I walked in, oh here the finger pointing goes “come on Reign, give me a smile. Come on” looking down at Reign “give Rich cheese” Reign looked at me and did it which made me laugh, what is she like “beautiful, mother. Just stand to the side a little, keep walking though” I could kill Rich right now because this is so embarrassing that people are looking “ooohhh oh my god hey girl” I gasped, I don’t know why but I did but it’s Beyoncé, why the fuck wouldn’t I “Reign is so beautiful” hugging Bey “thank you, she wanted to walk down. Your dress is so beautiful” I said to Bey, she always looks beautiful “we will catch up after, both mother and daughter look perfect” Bey is complimenting me, my god “little boss and big boss” Jay waved at me “you not dodging my calls again” I laughed, he is so annoying for airing that out, I am getting stared at for that comment “wave at Auntie” I said to Reign, she better wave to Bey but my daughter did “I just want to steal her, and don’t look so nervous, you look great” Bey squeezed my arm as she sat back down. Let me gather myself up, his family are gawking at me “hey” hearing someone say and then noticing Diddy waving at Reign, oh chile Quincy is here “seats here” Jay said, well ok at me being on the seat behind, girls not allowed to be in front because it’s very male dominating front row. I want to say something, but I won’t, also the Saudi prince is here which I didn’t think he would be, but he is with his entourage. Lifting Reign and placing her on my lap, I am not amused by the second row business and Maurice is not even here or even sitting down with us.

I am so hot and bothered right now “I didn’t think you was inviting the whole of Cali, this is ridiculous dad” I am not angry, maybe I am but I am more angry at the facr every family member from Texas is here “let’s just move forward, Marquis you will start the ceremony, and then Maurice will come up. Quick as we can so we can move on and do that party side of it, everyone is here and waiting” Lorraine said “fine, I am going to sit down then” it was bad enough speaking to press, now I have to speak to the people in the crowd. Rubbing my face as I walked out from the back with Matt, I am stressed a little. Looking up and seeing the seats just filled “it’s ok, I got this” I said to Matt, I just need to sit down. Just these two seats are for my dad and I but then where is “oh” Robyn is behind me; I didn’t set this out at all. Robyn flashed me a smile but I don’t think I can smile when I am sat with my uncles like they are the founding members. Quick Maurice, I need to think. My dad won’t be sitting here until I get up so Robyn can sit here, also my dad won’t mind but she shouldn’t be sitting behind me “Robyn” I leaned over “get up, sit next to me” I said in a whisper, moving back as I sat down “you ready for this” my uncle said, Kellen’ dad is after my throne “ready as I can be, you ready to work” I said not even looking at him “this seating plan was laid out for family members” he is just trying to annoy me “I think the next in line should be the one to sit here, aww Reign, come here” taking Reign from Robyn as she sat down next to me, placing Reign on my lap as the lights dimmed a little, here comes my dad with the video promo, he loves himself and the work he has done “you look beautiful” I said to Robyn “thank you” Robyn placed her hand on my leg as she leaned into me to get comfortable.

I laughed as I clapped, I hate this kind of shit “which suit addition is that?” Robyn said “why are you laughing, shut up. I hate these ugly promo pictures, I mean look at them” Robyn is laughing at me, she is not shit at all “dada!” Reign shouted pointing and then looked at me “yes I know baby” I laughed at Reign as she clapped after everyone stopped, she would do that. My dad is walking with no walking stick, but T is helping him, what is he trying to prove with his old self. Reign wanted to get off my lap “what if she runs off” letting her get down “Then Matt can chase her, she will be ok” the clapping started again and Reign turned around looking like they are doing it for her, my dad made it finally and the clapping died down but Reign decided she would do it now with some screaming added “is that my grandbaby letting everyone know who she is” my dad said laughing down the mic “I know Reign, thank you” I shushed Reign but she turned away, she is going to do her own thing now I guess “I want to first of all thank everyone that came, you all came here for my son, for the love you hold for him, that brings me great joy. Friends, family, family friends we appreciate you all. When I took over this company, it was as simple as picture with the paperwork in my hands, as you can see” the picture of my dad came up “he looks like you” Robyn said to me “you fancy my dad then?” I said to her “be quiet” she hit my leg “and we come now, this is my boy. Officially he has taken over, which happened in New York alongside his lawyer and mine. But by this point anyways my son is on Forbes, he is a billionaire without the need for this company” I grinned at my dad hyping me up “look at that smile of yours on that picture” Robyn whispered “we have come a long way and we have entered a new phase in this company, we have entered the future way before this even came around. Maurice set out his plans and he made it happen. I couldn’t make Dubai, but he told me dad, I can do this. He went to Dubai for a month, came back with a new island just for the Davenport hotel, he bought more then just a hotel, he bought land, he bought stores and he bought us more custom overseas. Then he joked with me, I thought he was anyways. I will take Hilton, he did and not just a merger, he took the whole company. He said he was being nice to keep their name somewhat on there, we are still on discussions with them for this. If I didn’t think he would be good enough for this company I wouldn’t have left it. He has proved himself; I am excited to watch his next move. Is it Hyatt or Mariott next” my dad said looking at me which made me laugh “the future is bright, and I have never felt so happy to pass something on. I want you all to give a round of a applause to the owner of Davenport, Davenport-Hilton and everything on top of that, Maurice Davenport” I hate the attention “proud of you” Robyn said “thank you” pecking her lips before getting up from the seat, the claps and cheering, I really didn’t want all this but my dad is just dramatic of course.

Hugging my dad “so proud of you Maurice, I love you” my dad said in my ear “I love you too dad, thank you for this” patting his back as I moved back from the hug, they are still clapping and I don’t have my speech like I was supposed to keep with me. I blew out air laughing “thank you, you all can stop now” I said on the mic, the clapping calmed down “I just want to say thank you to every person in the room, I know some came from far for me, for this. It’s much appreciated and if I haven’t spoken to you I hope we do by the end of the night” I sighed out, I got to think now “Pretty much my path was laid out, from the moment I arrived I was destined to be this. This is the moment; this is the moment my dad wanted, and he wanted to make sure I was ready for it. I mean even at this moment I still need him; he has been the best teacher to me. He is my other half, at times I don’t show it but Marquis has been the best dad to me and a great teacher to me because we all know this in this room that I haven’t been the best person, I mean who am I to shy away from the facts. I know what I am and who I was, but we all grow don’t we. And that was thanks to my dad, he was there for me. Enough of the story time but I am excited for what is next, what is next for the name Davenport, I have so much to come, some things I can’t speak on but what I can speak on is the full takeover of Hilton, overseas will be mine, Tokyo also, and now we are aiming at property development. There is no stopping with my company, there is no such word of I can’t. I have personal business ventures too, so the future is very bright, and I am sure over the coming months the stories will come out on what is the next big thing. I am speaking like the fall of Hilton is not a big thing, but it isn’t to me because there is always better out there, and I want the better to be me. With great power comes with more consequences, I got taught that when shares fell. That was because of personal life, personal life affects business. It taught me that social media is the new thing, it gets to the people. I had realised that I had people looking at what I do, people that go through struggles. Which brings me to the biggest person in my life that humbled me, I met a girl” I laughed saying as a few people cheered “yes I met Robyn, then I met another girl. She goes by the name of Reign; she keeps interrupting me with her shouting but both of them together. They have humbled me, shown me that there is purpose to life. I can’t thank Robyn enough, she is a great wife, mother and best friend to me. I also want to thank Terry, she is a great mentor to me, a mother figure I need around me. And I just want to thank my team, they are the hardest working peers I have, my sister that has dealt with overseas and helped with the foundation we run to help the young black queens and kings that want to get into business. Also, my brother Malik, he couldn’t be here today, but he has also the most loveable guy. To my family that support me, you got me then I got you. We not looking to others anymore to feed our families, we are doing this for ourselves. Thank you for all coming out tonight, have a nice night” I said before walking as people started to clap.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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archadianskies · 4 years

Note

“That was a workout.” Allen900 pls 👀

[Ch1 & Ch2; warning: explicit sexual content below]

→ on Ao3

Sleep is considered an indulgence for him, and even then he doesn’t tend to indulge any more than two hours at most. He is built to run for at least a week with minimal recharging, but it was his own brother who taught him that sometimes it’s pleasant to just lie down and tune out the rest of the world for a little while.

So he lies down, tuning out the world, and the body curved against his is warm and pliant and oh so alive in a way he isn’t.

Captain Allen’s phone shows there will be an alarm at 6:00am, and then another at 6:30am, followed by one at 7:00am and finishing with one at 7:30am. That means the man averages seven hours of sleep and rises early (6:00am) for a morning run (6:30am), and a yoga session (7:00am) before leaving for work (7:30am). He is a disciplined, orderly man which is reflected in both his conduct at work and here in his home life. Caleb likes that about him.

Without a mission furrowing his brow, David looks younger in his sleep, hair tousled instead of slicked back and expression lax instead of hardened with intense concentration. Carefully Caleb reaches out to smooth a few unruly locks away from his face, and his eyes pick up a few glints of silver threaded through the strands.

There’s something boyishly charming about him, something a little old fashioned in the way he treats Caleb, like a gentleman from a bygone era. Caleb likes that about him too.

When the human’s vitals reflect a deep REM cycle, the android quietly eases out of bed and retraces his steps to the front door, collecting their hastily discarded clothes along the way. He folds them neatly, placing them on the end of the bed ready for the morning.

The apartment is large and airy, decorated in sleek, dark, masculine decor. It is aesthetically pleasing but shows little life, unlike the way Lieutenant Anderson’s home seems lived in, worn in a way this isn’t. It tells him Captain Allen is rarely home long enough to make the space feel occupied.

The fridge and pantry are well stocked, and there are cooking utensils in the dish rack. Meals are stacked in containers labelled neatly with days of the week, ordered left to right in the fridge. A self-sufficient man, reliant on no one but himself.

Caleb takes his time exploring the apartment, careful to keep noise at a minimum in order not to disturb the human slumbering in the bedroom. He lies down on the couch and connects to the obsolete MP3 player sitting in the dock, downloading the songs so he can listen to them. It passes the time in an enjoyable way, allowing more insight into the man’s tastes. At four in the morning, Connor requests to communicate with him, and he opens a channel for his brother.

[What are you doing now?]

‘I am making my way through Captain Allen’s music collection.’

[Does he have records like Hank?]

‘No but he has an obsolete MP3 player filled with songs from the mid 2000s to the late 2010s.’

[Will you stay over at his apartment often? Do you think it will lead to cohabitation?]

‘Perhaps.’ Caleb mulls on the thought, letting it turn in his mind and worm its way deep. ‘I am not sure. This is the first time we have been intimate. I am not sure what he wants to do next.’

[Curious.] Connor hums thoughtfully. [I have no such inclinations towards romantic or sexual relations.]

‘You take after our father that way.’ Caleb points out, and he thinks he can feel Connor’s smile even without seeing it.

He slides back beneath the covers after disconnecting from his brother’s conversation. David shifts a little at the movement, and Caleb eases him into his arms. Androids are not warm like this, soft like this. Human bodies have a certain give to them, since they are muscle and fat and sinew and skin layered over a skeleton frame.

He breathes him in, nose in his hair, able to analyze the chemical components of the shampoo he used in the shower earlier, and the natural oils of his scalp. His heartbeat is steady, his breathing relaxed and Caleb uses those sounds, the steady tempo, to lull him to sleep as he slowly shuts off his processes one by one, easing into stasis.

*~*

At 5:53, a full seven minutes before the first alarm, he feels David begin to stir awake. It’s a quickening of his heartbeat, a deeper inhale and exhale, a slight twitch in his fingertips and toes as his body prepares for more movement. He’s not quite conscious yet but he wriggles a little, as if chasing more warmth, more contact.

Caleb presses his lips to his bare shoulder, tongue darting out to taste his skin. David huffs, squirming away from his mouth and yet tightening his arms around him. There’s arousal present in his sweat, and Caleb can feel his already half hard cock thickening between them. He kisses the juncture where his jaw meets his ear, closing his lips over the jutt of his bone and sucking mildly. David groans hands clumsily pushing at his shoulders.

“Jesus Christ Caleb it’s barely six.” His voice is an octave deeper, scratchy with sleep still and Caleb commits it to memory as his nips along his jawline, tongue laving over the stubble dotted there. Tilting his head slightly, Caleb licks up along the column of his throat before pressing their lips together briefly. The early dawn light peeks through the slats, throwing warm yellows across them, catching in David’s green eyes when he finally opens them to regard him with exasperation.

“And you’re already hard.” Caleb teases, snaking a hand between them to palm his stiffening cock. David rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth as he gives him a squeeze.

“God you’re impossible.” He grumbles, rutting into his hand for more friction. It takes him four tries to open his inseam, limbs still heavy with sleep and dexterity still lacking as he gropes for his cock. “Fuck I’m not awake enough for this.”

“Parts of you are.” He quips, stealing another kiss as David coaxes him to hardness. The alarm goes off, heralding six in the morning and Caleb reaches out to swipe the off option and silence it. Thirty minutes until the scheduled morning run; plenty of time. Rolling over, he tugs David to curve against his back, pressing the cleft of his ass insistently against his cock. He’s already wet, his thighs slick with lubricant. “Please?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” David nips the tip of his ear, voice still rough like gravel as he pushes inside him. Caleb arches in pleasure, mouth open in a silent cry as his body squeezes around the intrusion. He lets out a shaky sigh as David slides his hand up his abdomen, fingers rubbing over one nipple and pinching it just a little too hard.

They fuck and it’s a heady, lazy affair as they chase their pleasure. There isn’t any of last night’s urgency, no trace of that animalistic desperation. It’s a slow, simmering heat coiling in his system and he keens as David hooks his hand behind his knee, lifting his leg up so he can fuck into him harder, deeper, with the new angle. Teeth clamp into his shoulder as he bites him to muffle himself, and Caleb whines needily, reaching for his own cock. David growls, smacking his hand away.

“No, you started this, you don’t get to come first.” A gutteral rasp right into his ear and Caleb nearly mewls in protest, rutting against the sheets for any sort of friction.

“Please-!”

“Hands where I can see ‘em.” His captain commands, and Caleb grips the pillow instead. “Good.” It takes a little longer this time, because he’s still clouded with sleep but it’s no less sweet, no less exhilarating when Caleb feels him shudder, cock twitching inside him as he reaches release.

Reaching around, he finally, blessedly squeezes his neglected member and jerks him off in quick, sharp tugs. His thumb lingers on the head, and when he teases his slit with the tip of his nail Caleb arches like a taut bow and comes hard into his hand with a strained cry.

>System in cooldown

>>Minimise exertion

>>Seek fluid intake

Grinning to himself, he swats the notifications away and rolls back over to kiss his lover languidly. David’s hair is tousled, sweat dotting his brow as his chest heaves for breath. He’s looking at him with a mixture of irritation and fondness, and the sight alone makes Caleb kiss him again, soft and sweet.

“Well. That was a workout.” David bumps their brows together. “I don’t think I’m going for that morning run now.”

“I’ll change the beddings after we shower?” Caleb offers by means of an apology though he isn’t really sorry at all. “And I’ll get coffee from down the road while you do yoga?”

“Deal.” He sighs, acting put upon though the smile betrays his tone completely. One more kiss before they finally get out of bed. Suddenly David’s phone vibrates insistently on the bedside table just as Caleb receives an inbound call.

“Allen.” He answers curtly as Caleb presses two fingers to his LED.

“RK900, receiving.”

A mission. They scramble for their clothes, forgoing the shower in favour of wiping themselves down with a damp hand towel. The mellow mood vanishes in an instant, replaced with something grim. Caleb watches David withdraw into himself, step behind the veneer of the man who leads SWAT Unit 32. There he is: Captain Allen, ready to command.

“Alright rookie, let’s go.”

“Yessir.” He follows him obediently to the door and the man pauses, reaching to tweak the collar of Caleb’s jacket and for a moment he glimpses him again; David offers a brief, affectionate little smile and Caleb leans down swiftly to kiss it before it vanishes.

Onward.

#allen900 #captain allen #rk900 #detroit: become human #morning after #annie writes: dbh #oh anon #adventures in text posts

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starker-stories · 4 years

Text

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 3

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

Just because I suck and I can... @starker-stories the writer formerly known as ;) starkerstories. Here I am.

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “Russian naming convention. Natalia Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. Or Ms. Widow, to you kid.” Bucky grinned. “She’ll die when I tell her that.” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 3: Colonel Flappy-coat

“You shouldn’t let me make you miss so much class,” Tony said, rolling over and nuzzling the spot behind Peter’s ear.

“You’re lucky I don’t take advantage of the fact that while we’re still not completely out about our relationship, every one of my professors knows that I’m Iron Man’s boyfriend. Because Tony fucking Stark told them as he signed the checks to fund their departments.”

Tony laughed. “What’s the point of being a billionaire if you can’t embarrass your boyfriend with it? As soon as you’re legal…”

“I’m legal now, Tony.”

“…in all fifty states, I will be more than happy to sing it from the roof of my tower that you are my beautiful boyfriend who puts up with far more from me than he should ever have to.”

“Do you think Bucky’s okay up at HQ?” Peter asked.

Tony brought out his phone and checked. “Company helicopter picked him up here, he flew himself there, he’s been in with Fury for almost three hours. So, no, he’s not okay. He’s been in a room with Nick Fury for three hours.”

“We should pick him up.”

“The helicopter’s there with him. We could take mine, though. Leave the other to self-pilot home.”

“I thought yours was the only one that could…” Peter rolled his eyes when he saw the way Tony was looking at him. “Can you not tinker with anything that comes within a thousand yards of you?” he asked rhetorically, giggling.

“Nope. Impossible. Didn’t you hear the story about how I upgraded a reporter’s phone just by glaring at it one day?”

“That was awesome. There’s evidence!”

“Of course there is. Who do you think ’shopped the evidence?”

“FRIDAY,” Peter said confidently. “You are the laziest computer genius in the world.”

“FRIDAY does things she can do; I do things she can’t. A more effective use of my time. Which leaves me more time to do this…”

“Not if we’re going to pick Bucky up from HQ,” Peter said, putting his hand up between them.

“Why am I doing that instead of fucking my beautiful boyfriend?”

“Because we’re rescuing him from Nick Fury.”

Tony sighed. “You had to go invoke that name and kill the mood. All right.”

~~~~~

“Do I have your attention, Sergeant Barnes?” Nick Fury asked, noticing Bucky staring out the window.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. The helicopter I flew here in just lifted off. Without a pilot.”

“You get used to that sort of thing when Stark’s around.”

“He’s not around though.”

“If his helicopter just took off, he will be. Now, about Korea… Would you mind not gawping at every technological wonder Stark pulls out of his ass? His ego doesn’t need the polish,” Fury said.

Bucky gawped at the larger helicopter landing, also pilotless. That time he saw Peter and Tony get out of the passenger area though. He smiled.

“I can see that we’re done for the day.”

“Sorry sir.”

“Go on,” Fury said disgusted at Bucky’s distraction.

“They think they’re fooling people,” he muttered under his breath as he stood, watching Tony and Peter head toward the main door.

“No,” Bucky said, smiling. “They just don’t give a fuck.”

~~~~~

“I’ll be back in a minute, baby,” Tony said, putting a kiss on Peter’s head when they met Bucky in the entrance.

“You look like you needed rescuing,” Peter said smiling. He took Bucky’s hand and held it briefly. “How are you holding up?”

“It’s fine. What I expected. More pleasant, actually.”

“With Nick Fury?” Peter said disbelieving.

“He’s professional. Calm. There’s an obvious agenda, but it’s obvious. He has a less obvious agenda naturally, but it’s obvious as well. I see why Tony insisted he handle my debrief.”

“Tony says Fury scares the shit out of him.”

Bucky chuckled. “You believe him?”

“Of course not,” Peter said. “But I let him think I do.” He paused. “I know the things that scare him.”

“I’m one of those things,” Bucky said.

Peter nodded. “He doesn’t want you to be though. I believe him on that.”

“Everyone here knows you’re together,” Bucky said, changing the subject.

“We’re not exactly subtle,” Peter giggled.

“I thought you were trying to keep your relationship quiet.”

“From the press. I’m still not legal age in a lot of states. If it got out of the small circle of people — Avengers, Tony’s personal staff, our friends and family — it… wouldn’t be great,” Peter said understating it. “When I turn eighteen, we’ll come completely out then. People will still talk and everyone will know that we started before. But there’ll be nothing that can be done about it.” He looked at Bucky sideways. “It doesn’t bother you? It bothers everyone. Even people who are our friends.”

“Peter, with my past… Is he hurting you? No. All right. Then he’s already a million miles above things that I have done to people younger than you.”

“Not you.”

Bucky sighed. “Maybe not, but my body did them.”

“Do you want to talk to someone about it?” Peter asked gently.

“Like a head shrinker?” Bucky scoffed. “What shrink is going to understand me?”

“Yeah. I get it. Hi. I can lift seventy tons and not break a sweat. I can literally feel my broken bones knitting back together. And I have trouble sleeping.”

Bucky laughed. “We’re not exactly couch material, any of us in this building, I don’t think.”

“This is true. There are some in the medical department here that try, but… even if they’re in on the whole secret identity thing, they just don’t know. And that’s just dealing with the superhero part. Not the whole… I was a secret assassin whose brain got regularly put into a blender for seventy years. Oh! I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” Bucky said, trying to keep from laughing so hard. “You should’ve. You definitely should’ve. You have no idea what it’s like when everyone around you is tiptoeing around…” He caught Peter grinning. “Of course you know. All three of us know.”

He paused for a long time. “You know, Tony’s right. You do got some wisdom about you, kid.”

“What this time?” Peter said smiling softly. It was something he and Tony knew, but no one else understood. Age didn’t have anything to do with it. They understood each other. There were things Tony understood and Peter didn’t. There were things Peter understood and Tony didn’t. And there were things they both understood. Age was experiences and maturity. Age had nothing to do with understanding.

“What you told me last night. Comparing… pain. The number of pains doesn’t matter, really. Because when you’re in the middle of one… it’s just as bad as the other guy’s is. No matter what the count. Counting just makes you hate yourself. Either you don’t think you have the right to feel that way because others have it worse…” Peter sighed and nodded. “…Or the weight of it is…” Bucky closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked at the ceiling before looking at Peter again. “…It’s incomprehensible. When you start comparing, the spiral of hating yourself never ends.”

Peter reached across on the bench they were sharing and touched his fingertips to Bucky’s metal ones. Bucky started to pull away. Peter put his whole hand over the back of Bucky’s.

“People don’t touch me there,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

“It frightens them.”

“Huh. Really?”

“I suppose.”

“Can you feel it?”

Bucky tilted his head to the side and looked at Peter.

“Can you?” Peter asked again.

“No one’s ever asked. Not even Steve.”

“Really?” Peter’s eyes went wide. “Well, can you?”

Bucky nodded. “It’s not the same though.”

“I wouldn’t think so. The neural net would have to be totally different. Even this one that you got in Wakanda, it can’t interface with what isn’t there. It has to interface through the nerves of your shoulder… It does interface there, right?” Peter asked.

Bucky nodded. “Through my shoulder.”

“Tony’s latest suit that he's working on will interface directly to his mind. He'll think ‘do something’ and it will. Nerves don’t have to be there.”

Bucky paused. “How do you know how my arm works?”

“Data mining. Tony backdoored into Fury’s system, like, ages ago. JARVIS ran the program.”

“JARVIS is Vision now.”

“Uh… yeah mostly. Anyway, Tony got everything. What he didn’t was in the files Ms. Widow released…”

Bucky laughed quietly. “Ms. Widow? Does Romanova know you call her that?”

“No. I haven’t seen her since Berlin. It just didn’t seem right for me to call her…” Peter smiled. “She’s amazing and so… Wait. Romanova? I thought it was Romanoff.”

“Russian naming convention. Natalia Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. Or Ms. Widow, to you kid.” Bucky grinned. “She’ll die when I tell her that.”

“You know her? I mean… Yeah, of course… It just sounded…”

“I was her weapons trainer in Russia,” Bucky explained. “We went on missions together. Another me, another her.”

“Anyway,” Peter changed the subject, “whatever Fury knows, Tony knows, which means FRIDAY knows, which means Tony thinks I don’t know, except I think he really does know that I know…”

“Planning on coming round to your point anytime soon, Pete?”

“Fuck. How long has he been there?” Peter asked Bucky.

“Long enough to know that FRIDAY and I need to have a talk about you,” Tony said.

“Yeah, but what are you going to do about JARVIS’ air-gapped source matrix who tells me how to break into FRIDAY?”

“Will you shut the hell up, kid?” Tony said in a warning whisper. “Did you not just see Mr. Flappy-coat walk by here a few moments ago?”

“Wouldn’t that be Colonel Flappy-coat?” Bucky asked.

“Hush. Say his name three times and he appears,” Peter warned.

“That would be Beetlejuice, Parker,” Fury said. “Barnes? Ten a.m. tomorrow morning. I have business elsewhere, Hill will handle your next debrief.”

“Yes sir,” Bucky said, standing.

“Jesus fucking Christ, pretty, if you salute him…”

Fury raised his eyebrow at Tony’s nickname for Barnes.

“You don’t salute a retired officer in civilian clothes, Tony.”

“But standing’s a nice touch,” Fury said as he and his flappy-coat left the building.

~~~~~

Bucky started to climb into the cockpit of the helicopter.

“Flies itself,” Tony said. “Unless you’re particularly in the mood,” he added with a shrug.

“Habit,” Bucky said sheepishly and climbed into the passenger compartment with Tony and Peter.

They sat in awkward silence until Bucky finally broke it. “Will you be reviewing everything I say to Fury?”

“Directly? No. FRIDAY will be. I don’t really care if you killed JFK or if that’s a rumor.”

“Not a rumor,” Bucky said, staring out the window.

“So?” Tony said dismissively. “There are things she knows I’m interested in. Anything to do with Stark. Anything to do with the Avengers or enhanced individuals. A bit of financial data here and there.” Peter looked at him sideways. Tony shrugged. “All that,” he said, nodding towards the Avengers compound shrinking in the distance, “doesn’t pay for itself. It’s only insider trading if you get caught. I don’t.”

“About Steve?”

“I could lie, but I don’t. Yes, about Rogers. Past and present. Do I care about his current location? I care more about what happened on the Grassy Knoll. But I will not be blindsided by him again. I stopped giving a damn about him when he left me for dead in Siberia.”

“We left you. You were alive.”

“Only one of you was walking under his own steam. You went where he brought you. Away from me, which was sensible at the time. But this?” Tony tapped his arc reactor. “Not a fuckin’ night light. The shield cracked through the suit’s RT, through the sapphire-glass, and left the coils damaged. FRIDAY was busy trying to decide which was more important, keeping my heart functioning or keeping me from dying of hypothermia.” Tony’s anger and voice rose as he spoke.

“I didn’t know,” Peter gasped. “You were fine when you brought me home from Berlin.”

“I called a new suit with a replacement arc reactor. Which drained the shattered one in me more. But even at Mach 7, it takes over an hour to get from New York to Siberia. Long time to be lying there at sub-zero while your heart is deciding whether or not it wants to keep going for a little while longer. Not that Rogers gave a damn.”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky said, repeating Peter. “Steve said you had it removed.”

“I did. Steve also knew that I had to have it put back when smaller pieces of shrapnel started moving, broken off when Doctor Wu removed the larger ones. He was very aware of what an attack here,” Tony touched the arc again, “would do.”

“I was trying to power down your suit,” Bucky said quietly. “Not kill you.”

“From my perspective, it looked like you were. Rogers could’ve told you. He could’ve told us both a lot of things. He didn’t. So yeah… I’m going to be picking your debrief over for things about him.” Tony took several steadying breaths and tried to hide the fact that his hand dropped to the seat, seeking Peter’s. Which it found.

“I’m not going after him, Bucky. He can stay gone. If he walks through those doors?” He nodded again in the direction of the compound, which had faded from sight. “I’m not sure I can operate under his command. That’s disingenuous. I’m sure I can’t operate under his command. I’ll go back to being a consultant to the Avengers and to being Iron Man. Two very separate things.

“Things are complicated. I don’t want them to be, but they are. I have issues over who you are and… who you’re not. You’ve got issues over me and Rogers about this. It’s not going to resolve in a day or two. I know that. But the fact that you’re sitting here, of all places?” Tony nodded. “It’s a hell of a lot more responsibility for… things… than he’s taken. I can respect that.”

“That you opened the elevator door given everything… I can respect that as well.”

“That’s something to start from,” Tony said.

“And it always ends with what are you going to feed me?” Peter said. “Spider metabolism, remember? We slept in. No breakfast. We flew upstate. No lunch. Are you trying to starve me?”

“I’ll cook. You have an entire grocery store in your cupboards, Tony,” Bucky said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“The Depression was almost a century ago.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“For some people in this helicopter it was about fifteen years ago. I’ll cook.”

“Billionaire, remember? I’ll order in.”

“What do you do with the food in your house?”

“He mostly burns it,” Peter cheerfully offered.

#starker #winterironspider #WIS An Accord #Von writes stuff

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